


HankCon Whump collection

by LadyAmalthea, Swood3133



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Connor whump, Hank Whump, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tags In Each Chapter, Whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-08-19 11:52:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 28,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16534097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAmalthea/pseuds/LadyAmalthea, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swood3133/pseuds/Swood3133
Summary: Just a bunch of one-shots.





	1. A Year Gone By

**Author's Note:**

> These aren't necessarily in the same universe, just a bunch of one-fics for my own practice and self-indulgence. 
> 
>  
> 
> C/W for this chapter - references to violence, android gore

November 5 2039

  
  


_Connor:_ _Meet me at Jimmy’s tonight. 8pm._

 

The ominous message was burned in Hank’s vision, even as he stared at his phone where he was sitting at the bar. It was just after 8, and for old time’s sake he ordered a whiskey on the rocks. 

 

It had been a whole year since this android crash-landed into Hank’s life, even though at first he didn’t want to be anywhere near the guy. But the mere week they spent together before Connor deviated, the revolution, all of it… Hank had changed so much in such a short span of time, he wasn’t even sure what he had done to deserve a second chance like that.

 

For the first few months, Connor had been absolutely gone. They met at Chicken Feed one more time, only for Connor to tell him that he was needed with his people to negotiate the terms of their newly-earned freedom. Hank understood; Connor was the newest, shiniest toy that CyberLife had come out with, and as a deviant his passion for justice only grew. He returned just as the summer started, staying on Belle Island with all of the Jericho leaders and helping folks.

 

They had spent more time together recently, now that Connor was officially reinstated with the DPD. Most of the other officers welcomed him gladly, but there were still a handful of humans who still didn’t believe androids should be considered equals. Most of them didn’t even believe androids could now  _ feel _ ; everything from pain, to pleasure, to sleepiness and hunger. They adapted, slowly integrating, most of them removing their LED, including Connor.

 

There was a lot of living that Connor had to catch up on after working nearly nonstop. Hank took it upon himself to make Connor go out and experience things; trips to the beach, letting him dogsit Sumo, reminding him to take a break sometimes. It still seemed like Connor was clinging to old habits, bottling in emotions and not talking about it unless necessary. 

 

And things like this, just hanging out together even on days when they weren’t working. Hank had sobered up plenty, but he wouldn’t say no to an invitation for drinks with his friend.

 

Really, his best friend. His friend who he… 

 

The minutes ticked by, and even Jimmy noticed how uneasy and awkward Hank looked as he tried to message Connor that he was waiting.

 

“Hey man, everything all right?” The bartender asked.

 

Hank shrugged, “yeah… my friend is running late. It’s just unlike him, is all,” he took another sip of the liquor.

 

Jimmy poured him a drink, on the house, and he kept waiting. He stepped outside for a minute, calling Connor, but no answer. 

 

It was nearly 9pm when Hank called it quits. He was pissed off, for sure, but it wasn’t like Connor to forget  _ anything. _ And he wouldn’t purposefully leave Hank waiting like that. He took a shortcut through an alley back to his car, tears pricking his eyes in frustration, and he wanted to avoid any staring. 

 

His phone buzzed from an unknown Android-designated number, and he rolled his eyes as he answered it. “This is Lieutenant Anderson.”

 

“Hello, is this… Hank?” A voice replied, “sorry, we don’t know each other personally. My name is Josh, I’m a friend of Connor’s.”

 

That was enough to make Hank’s concern spike, “oh, hi? What can I do for you?”

 

“Well… Connor informed me that he was meeting you for drinks, and was going to… well, he usually messages one of us when he arrives anywhere. He doesn’t need to, I guess it’s a habit from when we were down at the Capitol. Anyway… I never heard from him, he left almost three hours ago. I was wondering if he was with you?”

 

Hank stalled in the middle of the alley, biting his lip. “No, no I was waiting for him at the bar for about an hour. Figured I would head home, but…” His heart raced like he was ready to sprint down the alley to his car and start driving around.

 

“Hank, I-  if you don’t mind that I call you Hank, I’m a little worried. Connor can hold his own, but… I’m letting Markus and the others know that Connor is missing. Please, let us know if you see him?” Josh asked.

 

“Of course. Yeah, yeah I will. I’ll let the guys at the police station know, too,” he promised, starting toward his car.

 

“Thank you, Hank,” the call disconnected and Hank immediately pulled open his contacts to call Fowler, explaining the situation frantically and then hanging up to start his search on foot.

 

He tried to trace out Connor’s steps. He didn’t drive, so that meant he would’ve taken a bus, or a taxi to meet up at Jimmy’s. A taxi was more likely, but that meant he could be literally anywhere. But… Josh said that he had left a long while ago. Maybe he was going somewhere first and got caught up?

 

He dialed the unknown number in his recent calls, walking back toward Jimmy’s to start his search.

  
“Hello! Hank, did you find him?” Josh asked.

 

“No, no but I’m lookin’. So, did he say he was going anywhere first? Before coming to the bar? Anything you might now, it would really help.” There was silence for a moment, like the android didn’t want to admit something. “Well? Hello?”

 

“Sorry… sorry yes. Umm, he had been looking into a shop over on Atlantic Ave to pick something up. I wasn’t supposed to say anything, but, this is…”

 

Hank was confused, but a lead was a lead. “He’s missing, it’s fine. Do you know the street number? I’m walking in that direction now.”

 

“Yeah, uhhh, 202 Atlantic. I alerted some androids in the area to be on the lookout, as well. One of our other leaders, Simon, is on his way over to you.”

 

“Great, okay, strength in numbers. Thank you, I’ll be in touch-” he ended the call, rushing down the sidewalk. 

 

About two blocks out, an android approached him, a Jerry model, wearing a tan jumpsuit with a white apron with greed stains along the front. The usually happy face was a mix of shocked and urgency. “Hank Anderson?” He asked, Hank giving him a nod. He pointed down a small alleyway, and they bolted down together. “He came into my shop earlier, and when I heard Josh’s message I went searching and-”

 

He stopped suddenly, pointing squeamishly where a dark pool of thirium had gathered about a dozen yards away. Soaked in the puddle were flower petals and stems; Hank approached slowly, his stomach churning uncomfortably. When he saw what confirmed his fears, he immediately sank to his knees beside him.

 

Connor had large, flickering gashes throughout his body. The neat, graphite-colored suit now stained blue all around, and his head hung down with his limbs outstretched like a rag doll. Hank cupped his jaw, lifting his face up and seeing a large slit under his neck where more thirium was leaking out. “Call Josh, a-and… the android emergency response line.”

 

He had installed some weird app on Hank’s phone, that now he was thankful to have, that could connect to Connor’s diagnostic program and show the results. His thirium was low, dozens of biocomponents listed as damaged and some not working at all. He had gone into low power mode; all texts and calls left untouched for hours. 

 

But, distracting Hank from the horrid sight before him, was the shredded bouquet of roses around the concrete. Did Connor… get these for him?

 

The android must’ve sensed someone nearby, because after minute or so his eyes blinked open, and his mouth fell open before his face twisted in pain. “Hhhh-hhh-aaaaa-nnnn-” his voice was distorted, sticking to each sound for a moment too long and fuzzy like a radio tuned between two stations.

 

“I’m right here, Connor. You hangin’ in there? Got a countdown clock I gotta worry about?” Hank asked, the sound of sirens approaching in the distance.

 

“E-e-e-gihhh-tt-teeeen m-m-iinnnn-uuutessss,” he was interrupted by a needed cough that spewed more thirium out of his mouth. Connor slowly observed the situation: the amount of thirium he had lost, the ruined flowers, the concern in Hank’s face, the time. 

 

The repair technicians parked at the end of the alley, one of them opening the back door and another running down to the patient who was shutting down. Hank stepped away, much to Connor’s clear dismay, as the tech started to diagnose Connor’s injuries and open a panel in his arm to refill his thirium from a bag in their pocket.

 

Connor returned to low power mode, going unresponsive, as Hank offered to help the tech carry him to the van. Every second counted, and Hank wasn’t going to sit aside and wait. The ten minute drive to the repair center felt like an eternity to Hank, watching the beginnings of repairs take place. The technicians at the center didn’t mind Hank waiting on the side, since they didn’t need to worry about things having to be sterile. 

 

It was strange, even after androids just existing for so long let alone Hank being friends with one, to see Connor opened up like it was. The torn clothing was removed, revealing most of the body bare down to the white, plastic chassis and parts. The procedures didn’t take very long, as they just clicked the damaged parts out and fit new ones in. Thirium replenished, and a quick diagnostic of his systems before coming out of stasis, the medics told Hank that Connor would be absolutely fine. 

 

Brown eyes opened, looking almost blank and unsettlingly lifeless as the last technician in the room rattled off to him what had been done. It sounded like a lot, to Hank, but they seemed so cool and nonchalant about it all. They handed Connor a light grey stack of clothes, which looked like a nurse’s scrubs, for him to go home in. The android nodded his head, slipping on the clothes before his skin and hair reappeared, and Hank stood up the moment the nurse left the room.

 

He stood in front of his friend, hands on the hunched shoulders and head tilted down to get a look at Connor’s face. “Hey there,” he said quietly. Connor barely acknowledged the greeting, aside from his warm eyes glancing up. “Whattya say we go back to my place? You look like someone who could use a nap with an overweight St. Bernard.”

 

Connor nodded, and then leaned forward to hold Hank closely. There it was; whenever Connor  _ was _ upset, it usually came out in an absolute emotional shutdown. 

 

Before the day was officially over, Hank found himself on the couch with a beer, and his dog in the arms of his best friend after being victim to a hate crime. Usually they would investigate cases like this, especially if Connor didn’t have people out looking for him so quickly. The android rested his eyes as he leaned against the back of the couch, his legs bent so his feet wouldn’t encroach on Hank’s space. 

 

“Hey Connor, can I ask you somethin’?” 

 

“Yeah?” It was the first time he had spoken outloud since getting discharged, his tone low and still almost broken-sounding.

 

Hank set down his bottle of beer, leaning over to rest his elbows on his knees. “When we found you, there were flowers all around. What were they for?”

 

For a brief moment, Connor smiled, but it was gone again in a flash. “They were… for you. It is customary to give flowers to someone for a memorable occasion.” He pushed Sumo away just a little, hands rubbing together anxiously. “They were you for, for… for the anniversary of when we first met.”

 

“Yeah, I figured that’s why you invited me to Jimmy’s tonight. But you didn’t need to get all fancy and get me flowers. People usually give roses to someone they-” Hank stopped himself. He did a double take toward the android on his couch, whose cheeks were dusted in blue in embarrassment.

 

“I am… aware of the symbolic significance of roses, Hank.” Connor insisted, but growing scared of the dead silence in the room. He slid his legs out from under the massive dog, “I should go, I’m sorry-” 

 

“Connor, wait!” Hank got up to follow him, wrapping his arms completely around Connor to keep him from running off. This close, he could feel the whirring biocomponents inside his partner, working overtime in his distress. “Don’t go… please don’t go.” He heard a little whine, and a sniff, feeling Connor’s legs give out a little before he spun the android around and held him tightly. 

 

“I’m sorry our night was ruined,” Connor mumbled.   
  
Hank let out a sigh, keeping a firm hold on the android. “I don’t fuckin’ care about that. My  _ life _ would be ruined if you’d died, alone, in the alley downtown. That’s all I care about, Connor. You mean the world to me.” The words sounded a lot easier coming out of his mouth than he thought they would. Connor twitched a little, like he was trying to analyze ever nuanced inflection in the statement.

  
“Hank, I-”    
  
“I love you too, Connor.”


	2. Hank's Night Terror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> c/w - nightmares, descriptions of car accidents, sleep-walking

 

“Fuck!!” Hank cursed loudly after banging his foot into one of the legs of the coffee table. 

 

Connor stood up after him, “are you all right?” 

 

The lieutenant hissed through his teeth, “yeah, fuckin’ peachy… I'm going to bed.” He was getting up from the couch to do just that, but now he would have to fall asleep with a sore pinky toe. 

 

“Sleep well…” 

 

Hank mumbled as he repeated the sentiment back to himself. Connor slept on the couch, insisting that if was perfectly comfortable, leaving Hank to finally have some privacy. He didn't mind the android hanging around him all the time, not really. But everybody needed some time alone here and there, especially when it had become your norm for years. 

Stumbling to his closet, he picked out a pair of sweatpants to replace the day's work outfit that smelled like sweat and booze. He spilled some on his pants earlier; the clothes were tossed into the basket right after being removed. Some nights, Sumo would climb into bed with him. Which was a blessing, to have something warm and solid to cuddle in the morning… but the dog, in his older age, had a tendency to let out incredibly awful farts. Not the best thing to wake up to. Lately, the enormous beast was more likely to stay out on the couch with Connor, which was just fine with Hank. Kept both of them occupied, and it meant Sumo could wake up the android if he needed to go out during the night. 

 

Hank settled into bed; the heavy, multicolored quilt spreading across the sheets as he shook it out over himself. It took a couple of tries to figure out which pillow combination was going to work for him tonight, eventually settling on his usual lumpy single pillow.

 

\--

 

_ He was sitting on the side of the road, staring down at his feet. _

 

_ Other details slowly came to him: it was nighttime, and frost was sprinkled in the grass around him, but he was so bundled up he didn’t really feel the cold.  _

 

_ He looked to see lights flashing, and a small plume of smoke starting to billow from the center of the mess of cars.  _

 

_ No…. “Cole?” he called out, standing up and walking over. _

 

_ \-- _

 

Connor had entered stasis on the couch, but found it difficult to remain in stasis since his battery was already nearly full. It was a little frustrating; the deviants of Jericho were still working on programming patches for androids to enjoy things like sleep in the same way humans do, but there were still several bugs to work out. Since he couldn’t at least sleep, he decided to close his eyes and try reading a few books he had downloaded. Usually he could read through a novel in a matter of seconds, but he wanted to try going slower, to see if it would make the process more interesting.

 

After a couple hours, he heard Hank’s door open and a muttering to accompany it. It wasn’t unusual for Hank to go to the bathroom this late at night. He paid Hank no mind, until he realized Hank  _ wasn’t  _ going into the bathroom. Perhaps a late-night glass of water? 

 

\--

 

_ The road became icy, the clear night descending into a bad snow storm. There were two vehicles sitting dead amidst the chaotic lights and sirens, but no officers or EMT’s were running around. What the hell? _ __   
  


_ The first vehicle was his own. His old sedan that he bought when Cole was born, had all the stupid safety features, but still manually driven. He didn’t trust those automatic cars. _

 

_ The other was a truck. It was a delivery truck; not particularly large like an eighteen-wheeler, but large enough that it sent his smaller car flying. It wasn’t one of those automatic ones either… someone was driving it. Someone caused his son to die. _

 

_ \-- _

 

“B-bastard…” the mumbling man said as he walked like a ghost into the kitchen toward the table, bumping into it slightly. The sound made Sumo jostle a little from where he was sleeping on the couch, but otherwise paid the movement no mind.

 

Concerned, Connor stood up to go to Hank’s side. “Lieutenant? Are you…” He looked at the glossiness in Hank’s eyes, not even flinching at Connor’s words, but stared out the small window in the kitchen.

 

\--

 

_ A figure was standing near the back of the truck, turning behind it and out of Hank’s view, he followed after them. “Hey! Come back here!” He demanded, rounding the corner of the truck, “get over here you bastard!” _

 

_ \-- _

 

Hank was sleepwalking, and apparently, not in a good mental state, at that. Connor knew sleep-walking was caused by a variety of things, several of which Hank could easy mark-off: high stress levels, alcohol in your system, anxiety or PTSD. It wouldn’t be surprising to Connor if it hadn’t been the first time he witnessed it.

 

\--

 

_ The figure behind the truck turn to look at him; but they had no face. It was like an empty void where the face should be, but they wore a doctor’s uniform.  _

 

_ The surgeon?! The surgeon who never showed up… _

 

_ \-- _

 

“Y-you… kil’d… my s’n…” Hank’s words faded in and out of being audible clearly, and Connor placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. He hoped he could peacefully lead Hank back to bed.

 

\--

 

_ The doctor stood silently, until he reached a hand over to Hank’s shoulder. “we couldn’t save him.” _

 

_ “The fuck do you mean ‘we’?!” You weren’t even there!” _

 

_ \-- _

 

Pushing Connor hand aside, Hank raised his hands around Connor’s neck. The android would likely have been more startled if he grip was any harder, or if it would even have any effect on him. He started to walk slowly backwards, guiding Hank back to his room.

 

\--

 

_ Hank continued squeezing the doctor’s throat in anger, walking him forward and down the road. The man struggled a little, but not nearly enough to give Hank the satisfaction. _

 

_ “If an android couldn’t save your son, what makes you think I could have?” The doctor choked out.  _

 

_ With that, Hank removed his hands from the throat to suckerpunch the guy in the face. _

 

_ \-- _

 

Connor dodged the swing of Hank’s fist, deciding that a change of action was needed. “Hank… Hank wake up,” he spoke calmly, avoiding another hit.

 

\--

 

_ “You were supposed to be there! You should’ve at least tried to save Cole?” Hank screamed at the man, who was now lying on the ground before him. _

 

_ \-- _

 

Lips parted, Connor looked at Hank solemnly when the words came out of his stuttering mouth. He had an idea of what Hank was dreaming… no wonder he was angry.

 

“Hank, you need to wake up! It’s a dream!” He asked a little more urgently, giving him a small shake.

 

The man blinked rapidly a few times, his legs started to give out just as Connor reached out to support him. He looked around, figuring out where he was. “That… that doctor… he was…”

 

Connor held him in a tight embrace, “it was a dream, you’re here at home…” he said to try and reassure his partner.

 

The woken man held him back a little, and then pulled away. “How am I… how’d I get over here? What in the fuck…”

 

“You were sleepwalking, Hank,” Connor explained, slowly bringing Hank back to his room and to bed.

 

“Huh… well that’s new…” The memory of what had happened in the dream came in small waves, remembering what he had seen and done. “Fuck, I didn’t hurt you, did I? Or Sumo?”

 

Connor shook his head, pulling the blankets away for Hank to get on the bed, “No, Sumo’s asleep. And I’m… I’m fine.” He gave Hank a small smile, tucking him in. “Do you need anything? Water, or…”

 

Hank shook his head, looking away with embarrassment as Connor stepped toward the door of the room. “Hey wait a minute, Con-” The android did an about-face, waiting expectantly for what Hank needed. “Just… stay. Make sure I don’t do that shit again, yeah?”

 

Connor smiled a little more broadly, softly padding over to the other side of the bed to remove his uniform before climbing up. “Good night, Hank.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send me whump prompts if you got 'em!
> 
> Find me on Twitter: @canticumexvacui


	3. Connor's First Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> C/w - nightmares and body horror

 

The patch for sleeping had been properly rolled out, with a few extra patches for the more advanced androids to even allow for dreaming. Many androids who had tested it said great things about it, and Connor was eager to try it for himself. He even ordered a set of pajamas for the occasion.

 

He’d been joining Hank in bed ever since the incident a few months back when Hank started sleepwalking. It only happened one other time, just after New Years’, but Hank only got so far as his closet, and came back to bed on his own. Connor didn’t tell him the next morning, of course, because he found it entirely endearing.

 

He wasn’t sure what he was feeling… emotions were still so new and sometimes too much to handle. There was something about Hank that made him feel safe, and somewhat warm? Connor didn’t know what to call it, but it did feel pleasant.

 

They got home from the precinct late that night, after a few hours of closely reviewing evidence for a case that they were asked to consult on. It was a long process, and Hank had to take a break to get dinner, but Connor powered through as best he could. It had been several days since he went into stasis, as it took a extended period of time for the deviancy updates to be fully calibrated. There was a lot of data to process, and it was slowing him down.

 

Once inside, they did their usual night routine. Hank would spend a half hour in the bathroom cleaning up, while Connor took Sumo outside. The old dog didn’t need much more time than that, and contently fell back asleep after getting inside. Hank was already changed into an old, worn t-shirt and fresh boxers, waiting in bed for Connor to join. "I will be in momentarily, Hank,” Connor said, poking his head into the bedroom before disappearing into the bathroom to change. The fresh, cotton outfit was a pale, grey color; much lighter than the grey of his uniform jacket.

 

Contrary to what Connor had expected, Hank didn't chuckle at Connor's pajamas, instead smiling fondly as Connor joined him under the comforter. "You ready for your first night of sleep?”

 

The android settled into his spot, booting up the new software and initiating the new protocols for the first time. He gave Hank a small smile, “I think I am. Seven AM wake-up call?” 

 

Hank yawned, nodding, “you betcha.” He rolled over onto his side, toward the bedroom door. “G’night.”

 

Connor closed his eyes, lips still curved upwards as he listened to Hank’s steady breathing and tried to mimic it. “Sleep well,” he whispered.

 

\---

 

_ When he realized where he was… he was falling. _

 

_ He had jumped, sharply cold water waiting below him. When he fully submerged, he recoiled at the shock, kicking himself up for air he didn’t need. He clambered to find footing, eyes hazy as he climbed through a large, hatch door; clearing as he adjusted to the dark and looking around. The water at his feet was gunky, he coughed to get some of the water out of his artificial lungs so he wouldn’t overheat.  _

 

_ As he wiped his mouth of excess liquid, he heard a strange series of noises from down the hall. Faded yelling, cracking, snapping… He waded as quickly as he could through the water, slowly noticing the consistency getting slightly denser, and color darker. There was a door up a set of stairs where the sounds were coming from, and he bolted up. “Detroit Police, I’m here to get you out!” He called, hardly recognizing his own voice. The stairs lead above the water line, but something was leaking from the lower corner of the door; the opening was lit up, and Connor saw that the water was tinged blue. _

 

_ He pulled the door open the rest of the way, stepping into the room. There was an ache where his belly would be, and he felt like his chest was being constricted. _

 

_ Pale, plastic bodies littered the floor. Deactivated androids, some were in a worse state than others; parts strewn about. The noises continued behind a pile of twitching chasses, and Connor staggered around it, trying to watch where he stepped. In horror, his hands covered his mouth and he nearly collapsed. _

 

_ There was a doppelganger of himself holding another android against a table, tearing it apart piece by piece. Blue blood leaked from the half of the body that remained, a noisy click echoing after each bicomponent was torn away. “What are you doing? Stop it!” Connor called out, running over and trying to pry the insistent hands away. The android on the table wore Markus’s cloak, and Connor looked away in fear.  _

 

_ His double pushed him away, and then pinned him against the pile of severed limbs, heads and torsos. “They were never alive, Connor,” the voice said, almost like it was all a joke.  _

 

\---

 

Hank was woken up abruptly by a shaking on the mattress, harsher than when Sumo would climb up into bed. “What the-”

 

Connor was what was shaking, and kicking for that matter. Like he was struggling for air, or something. Hank reached a hand over to the android’s midsection to get him to stop, “Con, what’s going on?” 

 

Even in the dim light, he could see that Connor’s eyes were shut tight, but his LED was a dim yellow. It wasn’t blinking or cycling, so he must’ve still been in stasis.

 

“Shit, oh Connor…” Hank had an idea of what was happening. With everything Connor had been through, it wouldn’t be surprising if those resurfaced at night if this update truly helped androids sleep like humans. And everything that goes with it.

 

Connor sat up with a jolt, and Hank pulled his hand away. The android cried out, and Hank felt a stab in his heart at the sound.

 

\--

 

_ “No! They are, you’re hurting them!” He yelped, a foot pressing into his leg. He couldn’t fight back; any strength he had faded away. His hands, even his head… he couldn’t move. His own face looked down at him in disappointment, and then put his hand on Connor’s thirium pump. “No, PLEASE!” The finger pushed into him harshly, breaking the plastic of his body and removing not only the core but the adapter for it that was located in his sternum.  _

 

_ He thrashed at the blindingly hot pain, raising his head up in a panic- _

 

Eyes opened, the room he was in was dark. His mouth hung open, tears streaming down both sides of his face. He made a pained sound, inhaling sharply with a whimper and closing his eyes again. 

 

“Connor… what’s wrong?” Hank asked in a hushed tone, afraid to even touch his partner from how scared he looked.

 

Before he knew it, he had an armful of android. Connor sobbed brokenly, his arms and shoulder shaking against Hank’s chest. His t-shirt started to get wet, but it only made him more worried. He wrapped his arms around Connor, one around an arm and his back, another combed through his hair. 

 

“I gotcha… you’re here it wasn’t real, okay?” His low voice cooed, making small shushing noises to ease the android’s erratic breathing. 

 

“I’ve never… it couldn’t have been a memory, but it… I was  _ there  _ Hank, and I… I couldn’t save them! Their… their blood was…” He shoved himself even closer to Hank and down into the pillows. 

 

Hank shook his head; his beard hair intermingling with Connor’s incredible soft curls. “I promise you, Connor… it was a dream. You’re here at home, it was just in your head.”

 

“H-hank-” he whined, the fear started to subside very slowly. He tried to focus on his partner: his usual warmth was so much different being held like this. It was closer, it radiated into the soft sleeping shirt he wore; he could feel his synthetic peel away to feel it more strongly. His body seemed to crave the comfort and security he felt being in Hank's protection, hearing him speak gently. "I'm sorry for waking you.”

 

The man huffed out a warm breath, tickling the sensors of Connor's neck, " don't- don't be sorry, it isn't your fault. I….I know that shit can be scary,” he admitted. The android was still gulping heavy, rushed breaths; Hank made his own deliberately slow and careful. “Try to follow my breathing, all right?” His chest lifted, expanding, and Connor imitating as best he could. “”That's good… there ya go…”

 

Hank's encouragement sent a burst of heat to Connor's face, the last few tears rolling away; he shifted up to look at Hank. The wide, brown eyes looked wearily at the lieutenant, his hand in the soft tresses slid away, and down to Connor's jaw. There was something in the air they shared between their faces; electrical, intoxicating tension. “Let's, uhhh…  tall in the morning,” He whispered.

 

As he started to withdraw, Connor reacted on a delay, “wait! Uhh…” Connor wanted to ask for Hank to hold him as he went back into stasis; he wanted to feel his warmth all night, as he had wanted for weeks. But, he was afraid of upsetting Hank, or driving him away. “Nevermind… please, rest well. I'll add fifteen minutes to the alarm to make up for-”

 

There was a pressure on his forehead, and the words froze in the back of his throat. Hank was kissing the soft skin just under his widow's peak, “just stay here while you get back to sleep.”

 

Connor nodded, adjusting himself to lay a little more snugly, “thank you, Hank.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a whump prompt? SEND IT!
> 
> Find me on Twitter: @canticumexvacui


	4. Worth the Risk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C/w - android gore

 

“Connor, to the right!” Hank called from about a hundred yards behind. 

 

It was barely a week after the revolution, the city still mostly empty, but those who lingered treated the streets like it was still a war zone. Fighting, protests, violence… desperate times called for even senior officers to get their hands dirty.

 

Hank didn’t regret opening his home to the newly deviated police android, whom he was proud to call his partner once again, and now good friend. It had been a strange transition: Hank had been staunchly against androids vocally, and now was living with one. But it felt… right somehow.

 

Connor quickly pivoted down the alleyway, calling out to the two men they had found torturing a poor BL100 in a worn-down neighborhood uptown. They fled fairly quickly, and Hank had called in backup to check on the poor deviant.

 

When Hank had caught up with Connor in the narrow alleyway, he was standing dumbfounded at the brick wall on three sides. 

 

“Where the fuck’d they go?” Hank asked.

 

Connor pointed to a large, metal emergency escape door into one buildings. He sprinted up to it, Hank following close behind, only to find the door was locked. “Shit!” The android cursed.

 

Hank sighed, “well, you got their faces, we’ll put out a-”

 

From around the corner, they heard the echo of screeched tires. Hank glanced over at his partner, who had also clearly heard the sound, and his LED spun a cautious yellow. “Lieutenant, there’s an auto-taxi being controlled by a third party signal…” He took a step back, looking at Hank fearfully, and grabbed the man by the wrist.

 

“Hey! What the fuck are you-” Hank was dragged behind a large dumpster, and Connor pulled it away from the wall just enough for Hank to get into the corner of the brick walls. 

 

The engine roared from the open end of the alley just as Connor was following suit into the corner. Taking in large breaths he didn’t need, he braced himself against the large, blue bin, looking fearfully into Hank’s stunned eyes as the car made impact.

 

Hank had recoiled into the very smallest he could bring himself, eyes closed tight. After the initial crash of metal, he heard Connor cry out as the force of the impact sent a metallic screech through the night air.

 

After a few minutes, Hank snapped out of how disoriented the whole thing made him to peel his eyes open. He was breathing heavily, adrenaline like fire through this veins. His ears had been ringing, the only sound coming through was his own name being repeated over and over.

 

When he looked up from where he was crouching, he covered his mouth to keep from yelling out.

 

Connor stood above him, forearms against the perpendicular walls and face down looking at Hank. The steal back of the dumpster had been pushed right up against the android’s back; he had absorbed the hard blow enough to keep the keep the car from squishing them completely. 

 

“-nk… Hank? Can you hear me? HANK!” His voice was frantic and shaking, only finding relief when Hank looked up at him.

 

“C-Connnn...or…” Hank slurred out as his senses slowly returned.

 

His partner’s face grimaced as the android pushed his arms away to get them out from where they were trapped. Connor grunted, pushing harder and harder until the metal slowly retreated enough for Hank to stand up.

 

It was only then, as Hank hoisted himself upright that he saw the damage that had been done. There was blue blood dripping from the scrapes on Connor’s arms, his legs, from both his nostrils and one ear. He reached a hand up to Hank’s face, who was too shaken to wince or recoil. His LED was blinking a harsh red; slow flashes that illuminated the space between them.

 

“Are you all right, Lieutenant?” Connor asked, latching his hand at the base of the man’s thick neck near his shoulder. 

 

Hank took another few breaths before speaking. “Shit, Con! You could’ve gotten killed!”

 

“So would you!” Connor replied immediately, his tone more scared than angry. “You do not appear to have any injuries, but your blood pressure is incredibly low. You should sit down, I’ll…. I’ll call…” Connor stumbled, sucking in large gasps as he leaned forward.

 

Hank let out an  _ oof _ as Connor’s head pressed into his chest; he could feel the android shivering uncomfortably. “Hey hey hey… c’mon Connor, we should get out of here.” His partner nodded, leaning up wearily as they supported one another down the alley, past the smashed car that was still blinking with hazard lights.

 

They were nearly to the street when Connor’s knees gave out beneath him, pushing away from Hank so as not to bring the man down with him. On his hands and knees on the pavement, he suddenly arched his back and held an arms around his mid-section. 

 

Sidling in surprise, Hank looked down at Connor’s obvious distress. He desperately wanted to kneel down to see what was wrong, but instead was startled backwards when he heard a blisteringly painful scream rise out of the android. It was followed by a small, broken sob; thirium starting to drip into little pools around him. 

 

“H-h-hank… I don’t…” he choked up, fingers digging harshly into his jacket.

 

This broke Hank’s daze, and he sunk down beside his partner, “easy, Connor… take it easy…” He reached over to lift Connor up from under his arms. The form swayed in his grip, twisting and falling into an awkward position in his lap. “Fuck!” Hank cursed, shifting himself away to stand back up for a minute.

 

Connor laid out on the cement at his feet; his face now emotionless and almost calm; sending an eerie shiver through Hank’s spine. He rubbed his forehead, swearing and pacing as the realization hit him of what he needed to do. Rolling up his sleeves, he resigned himself to getting this damn kid to the nearest… well, hopefully his car a few blocks away.

 

It then dawned on him that he wasn’t sure  _ how _ he was going to move Connor, 

since he probably weighed a ton… right?  
  
Hank slid an arm under Connor’s back and legs, reminding himself internally _“lift with your legs, not your back…”_ , only to find out that Connor probably weighted less than about 40 pounds. 

 

“The  _ hell _ are you made out of?!” Hank asked rhetorically to the limp form in his arms.

 

Even with Connor’s lack of weight, it was still a challenge for Hank to hold his own; he was still a little fuzzy after nearly getting crushed by that car. He would… worry about that later. 

 

Hank thanked his good fortune when he heard police sirens and saw familiar flashing lights approaching. Stepping toward the edge of the sidewalk, the car stopped about a dozen feet away, and Officer Miller stepped out of the driver’s seat.

 

“Hank?! What happened?” The cop dashed around to open the car doors for his colleague, helping him maneuver the android into the back of the patrol car.

 

“Some asshole hacked one of those automatic cards. God, I hate those fucking things… whose brilliant idea were those?!” He barked a little harshly, and then softened up again. “Thanks… how did you find us?”

 

“Connor sent a distress signal with your location a little bit ago… I’m glad you’re okay, but is…” Miller looked into the backseat at the limp deviant.

 

Hank shook his head, “I sure hope so.”

  
  


\----

  
  


The repair process had gone pretty smoothly… at least, Hank thinks it did at least. He was able to get his car while he waited, but the technician told him it would still be a while before Connor “woke up”. His systems had crashed because of the impact, and something about deviancy corrupted his files so that they couldn’t quite see if everything was all right with him. 

 

Hank figured that was a fancy way of saying that: “now that he can feel things, he may still be in pain when he wakes up.”

 

But the thumbs up from the technician was enough for him to drag the android to his car, and then to the couch when he drove them back home.

  
  


\----

  
  


**_Systems Loading…._ **

 

**_Damaged Biocomponents: Successfully replaced_ **

 

**_Residual damage healing - 59% complete_ **

 

**_Reboot Initiated_ **

  
  


Connor opened his eyes, groaning quietly at the thudding ache in his head. He was laying down on something soft, definitely not where he had lost consciousness, worried that Hank would-  
  
_Hank!!_

 

Connor sat up quickly, not minding the light blanket covering him and scrambled to his feet as he scanned the darkened surroundings for Hank. 

 

How did he get back to Hank’s house? How long was he…

 

**_02:33AM_ **

 

It had been  _ hours _ . 

 

He heard a familiar grumble come from the bedroom, and a light flicked on. And then another.

 

“Mmmmph… Con? You awake?” A groggy voice asked, just before Hank appeared from around the corner. The moment they locked eyes, the lieutenant saw the light on his partner's temple cycle from yellow to blue, as relief eased away the frown on the his face. “Are you, uhh, feeling okay?”

 

Connor hummed on affirmation, completing three full scans of Hank's vitals, before carefully stepping back to the couch to sit. “You… you are truly unharmed?” 

 

Hank furrowed his blonde brows, “yeeaaaah?” he asked. 

 

Connor nodded, bringing his head down and then letting a shaky breath pass through his lips. Surprised by himself, he covered his mouth with one hand, and gripping the back of the couch with the other.

 

A weight nestled into the cushions beside him; Hank was sitting next to him, lost somewhere between concerned and downright confused. 

 

“I-I was so scared. I was so scared that you-” Connor looked up at his partner. “I was so scared I wouldn't be able to protect you.” 

 

Hank sighed, a tilted smile bringing forth the wrinkles of his cheek. “I’d say you did pretty damn well on that one… but, you aren't indestructible. I appreciate you thinking on your feet, but, you scared the shit out of me when you blacked out.” He leaned forward, covering both of Connor's shoulders with his hands. “If you're hurt, I don’t care how little, you gotta  _ tell _ me. I can’t scan you like you can scan me,” he gave the shoulders a small shake, as if to get his point across more directly. “You got it?”

 

Connor nodded, “Got it.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Twitter: @canticumexvacui


	5. Going Viral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from the amazing WayWardWonderer !!
> 
>  
> 
> C/w - Android problems (computer virus, wire-stuff?)

Hank was in love with an android.

 

He wasn't quite sure how he found himself in this position, but here he was.

 

After finally agreeing to move in with Hank, their relationship was slow but steady. Chaste kisses before work and before bed, holding hands while they snuggled on the couch, but Hank didn’t want to rush Connor into anything. 

 

The android appreciated it; he was still learning and figuring out his feelings and tastes. But he was certain that he had a thing for a grumpy, older Lieutenant with a soft side, and Connor brought out in him a little more each day. 

 

It was a quiet afternoon at work; they had just wrapped a big homicide case that had been stable for weeks until a new lead surfaced the other day. They celebrated, of course, with a late night of paperwork and helping some of the rookie officers learn to use the software on their desk consoles. It wasn't thankless work, but it wasn't as stimulating as stakeouts and hours of research in the evidence room. 

 

As they were leaving for the night, Connor seemed a little more distracted than usual as he closed down his desk. 

 

“Connor, you ready to go?” Hank asked, sliding a few file folders neatly to the corner of his desk.

 

The android nodded half-heartedly, “I should be. My processor’s efficiency seems to be impaired by something, I'm still running diagnostics to isolate what the issue is. As a result, my primary power supply is low.” He said, sniffing his nose in concern. “Odd… it seems the sterilization cleaner for my mouth is leaking.” 

 

“Is that why your mouth always tastes like cheap vodka?” Hank asked as he handed him a handkerchief from his pocket.

 

Connor rolled his eyes, but smiled as he took the cotton cloth, “yes, it does contain a small amount of alcohol for disinfection.” 

 

They stayed quiet for a few minutes until they were outside, and Hank leaned over as they walked, “so what you’re telling me is that, theoretically, I could get drunk off kissing you?”

 

“Uhhh-” Connor stalled for a moment, blowing his nose again. “”I think your alcohol tolerance far exceeds the possibility of-” 

 

“I know, I know… just thought it’d be funny, since you’re always tellin’ me to cut back,” He said, unlocked the car, and reaching for Connor’s hand. He almost recoiled; the synthetic skin was unusually warm. He pulled Connor close, placing a hand on the warm forehead, “hey Con, is your temperature regulating thingy working?”

 

Connor’s eyelids fluttered a little, a small glitch that never quite got figured out, “it appears to be malfunctioning… would you mind if I go into standby on our way home? I’d like to try and run a diagnostic to find whatever this malfunction is.”

 

“Of course, c’mon let’s get going,” Hank said, going around the car to get into the driver’s seat. He flipped on the radio, keeping it on low, as Connor sat back in his seat while he ran through his system checks. 

 

It was weird driving in near-silence like this; usually they would be chatting about their current case, or Connor would update Hank about his android friends in Jericho. Whenever he hit a red light, the lieutenant would look over at his passenger to check on him. Maybe it was the weird lighting in the car, but Connor didn’t usually look so pale as this. 

 

The light switched green and he drove on, trying not to worry about it until he really needed to. Connor was basically an adult, he didn’t need to be fussed over. They'd figure out whatever the problem was.

 

Just as Hank pulled into the short driveway, and clicked off the radio. “Hey Connor, we're back,” he said, shifting the stationwagon into ‘park’. The android didn't respond, so Hank gave his shoulder a little nudge. “Wake up, we're here.”

 

It took another few seconds before Connor's eyes met Hank's, looking a little stunned like it had only been a second since they left the precinct. “Yes, right- I'm coming.” His movements seemed slow and stiff, almost a little more machine-like, as they were welcomed into the house by an eager St. Bernard. Sumo immediately went up to Connor, ready for his evening walk, and Hank could see his partner's face hesitate before turning to get the leash from the coat hooks.

 

Hank beat him to it, “why don't you sit for a bit? Bit of fresh air won't kill me,” he whistled Sumo over, clicking the lead to the dog's collar. 

 

“Oh…” Connor seemed unsure, watching Hank prepare to go outside. “Well I… I could get dinner started, then.” 

 

Hank gripped a hand on Connor's shoulder, looking at him with intent seriousness, “really, Con… I think you should just lay down for a bit. You look… well, you look like you're sick. For my own piece of mind, just rest for a bit.” 

 

“Okay…” Connor smiled weakly, finding the corner of the couch slowly and nestling into the cushions as the front door opened.

 

His circuits ached, liked he'd burned out some of the connections. The diagnostic in the car hadn't finished, because he slipped into stasis by mistake. He tried going through each system, one by one, but finding it difficult and taxing to look through each one properly. 

 

There was something in his code, buried deep and affecting certain functions and protocols. He sent one of the reports to Simon, seeing if he could help find the problem. Connor was too bogged down to go through it efficiently. Even with a window cracked open to let in the cooler, nighttime breeze, he felt uncomfortably warm. His head was filled with pressure, but he didn’t understand why. 

 

In an attempt to cool down, he started breathing heavily, only for the fans in his lungs to stutter as they struggled. It was all too much. Maybe if he could cool down more manually…

 

He stood up, taking one step at a time to the bathroom. The harsh overhead light made his optic receptors respond unpleasantly, and he felt around with closed eyes for a washcloth to dampen with cold water. 

 

His clothes… his clothes felt tight and only worsened the heat. He fumbled with the buttons, his task list flickering the different priorities. He turned off the HUD completely, feeling panicked and overwhelmed.

 

The panel reappeared to inform him that he had an incoming call from Simon.

 

“H-hello?”

 

“Connor! Where are you? Not at work, I hope?” The worried android asked. “I got your diagnostic.”

 

“Can you… can you figure out what is wrong? I can't i-i-isolate the-”

 

“It's a virus, Connor. A bad one, targeted specifically toward RK models. Markus is… Markus has it too. I wasn’t sure until you contacted me, but Josh and I are working in a system patch.”

 

Connor nodded, despite not needing to, but he had forgotten in the heated haze. “Thank you. Ummmm...what sh-should I do? In the meantime?”

 

Simon sighed, “keep cool, first and foremost. Don't try to run any complicated programs for the time being. Both you and Markus have been working nearly nonstop, no wonder you were so susceptible to malware,” he paused. “I have to go. Please inform your… lieutenant… what is going on. I will send him more details when I get them, just in case you are in stasis.”

 

“Thank you Simon. Say hello to the others for me?”

 

“I will, good night.”

 

Suddenly focused again, Connor realized he had dropped to his knees, clutching the counter of the sink with one hand, and the washcloth in the other. There was something wet on his face, dripping on the floor. He couldn't quite tell what it was… when suddenly the bathroom door opened.

 

“Hey, you in he- shit! Connor, what's wrong?” 

 

Opening his eyes, Connor saw the liquid pooling by his knees was thirium, dripping steadily from his nose. The sight was unpleasant, he couldn't even feel when the leak had started.

 

“A hav-ve a virus. Mark-k-kus and I...both…” through the heat, he felt a sudden flash of cool as he swayed forward. 

 

Hank caught him in his arms, and Sumo's nails were scratching nervously at the door. “Fuck… here, let's sit you down,” he moved the overheated android so he was sitting against the cabinet on the floor. “I'm gonna feed Sumo, and then we're gonna get you changed out of your suit.”

 

Connor whined a little as the gentle hand on his face left, leaning his head back as he panted loudly. 

 

When he heard Hank return, unsure how much time had expired, there was the welcoming relief of a bag of ice placed on his chest. He sat limply while Hank pried the white dress shirt the rest of the way off, undoing the clasp of the dark jeans. 

 

Connor took the ice in a shaking hand, placing it on his forehead, a growing discomfort forming in his throat. He felt the pants get tugged away, leaving him in his socks and a standard pair of briefs. “Gonna bring you to the bedroom, okay?” Hank said lifting Connor from under his arms. “Damn, I forgot how light you are!” 

 

The comment make Connor smile a little as he was dragged across the hall and plopped down on the pillows. He hummed in dizziness as he felt his internal gyroscope seem to tilt around, giving him an odd sensation of falling despite knowing he was safe on Hank's bed. 

 

The mattress dipped as Hank sat beside him, tenderly patting the cool washcloth around Connor’s head and neck. The android’s shaky hands reached toward him, finding a free hand to hold, “I’m going to… go into stasis…” he explained quietly. 

 

“Sure thing,” Hank kissed his forehead through the washcloth. “Want me to have anything ready for you when you get up?” 

 

“Mmm… no… thanks.” Connor gave his hand another small squeeze before falling into a resting state; his face peaceful. Hank sighed, a little relieved, flicking off the lights and cracking open the window to let in some fresh air. With the unanticipated time to himself, he started making a quick dinner. He shook out a small bed of mixed greens from a bag, and dug through the fridge for any available leftovers. The best he could find was some meatballs, which sizzled in the microwave until he scooped them onto the salad. 

 

They weren’t always home for Detroit Gears games anymore, so it was a treat when Hank flipped on the television and heard the commentary for a closely-matched game. He watched it for a while, taking note of the new players for the season, and Sumo jumped up on the couch beside him for a little while. It was all right, but not as fun as having Connor beside him offering conversation. Hank felt much more sure of himself, having Connor listen to his thoughts and feelings lifted a longstanding weight from his chest. Maybe it was because he understood. They saw the same things at works, usually tough crime scenes covered in some kind of blood or a body staring blankly at them. It was hard to not let it get to you, and even Connor had some sensitive nights. 

 

Hank had started to drift off when he got a short series of text messages, and then an email with an attachment. The were addressed from a “Simon”, who Hank recognized from the Jericho leaders, and he read through the messages for an update.

 

A lot of it Hank didn’t understand, but what he could gather was that they compared the code readings from both Connor and Markus and found the intruding virus, managed to write a countermeasure protocol that they had attached. The downside would be that it would go into effect immediately, and he would have to manually connect his phone to Connor because of the file’s size. Hank poked through a power strip in the living room to remove the phone’s charger, padding to the bedroom and knocking softly.

 

“Hey, Con, got something from Simon…” he gently shook the resting android; tired, brown eyes look up at him in agony. “I gotta connect to your neckport, can you roll onto to your side?”

 

Connor’s expression soured, “do we… do we have to do it this way?”   
  
Hank sighed; he knew Connor hated getting connected like that. It made him feel strange and vulnerable; like a machine. “Doctor’s orders, sorry.”

 

Connor considered this for a moment, and instead began to sit up against the pillows, “can you sit with me while you do it?”

 

“Of course,” Hank climbed up beside him, giving Connor’s shoulders a soothing rub as the synthetic skin just under his hairline faded away, and a small slot opened for the cable. Hank nudged the connector in, feeling Connor shudder as it made connection with the phone. Following each of the instructions, Hank tried to work quickly, as he saw how grimly disoriented Connor looked. 

 

The file had sent over, and Connor’s eyelids flitted sporadically before he spoke monotonically, “software patch received. Installing; two hours until complete. Entering stasis will delay integration.” 

 

Hank nodded, looking over apologetically. “Is it safe to remove this?” Connor nodded, reaching up and pulling the cord away himself. “How about you pick some music, and we wait this thing out together, all right?”

 

Connor gave a small nod, pulling up his selection on Hank’s phone before it was placed on the bedside table. They cocooned under the covers, Hank cuddling up from behind and softly rubbed Connor’s hands as the virus was slowly overwritten.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Twitter: @canticumexvacui


	6. Priorities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ  
> C/W- references to assassination attempts, injuries, concussions, unhealthy coping
> 
> Prompt from Bananaise_San

_“The leaders of the Android Civil Rights Movement, known as ‘Jericho’ have arrive in New York City this morning to attend a conference regarding international android affairs. This includes negotiations with Canada’s ambassadors regarding the reported hundreds of androids to fled to the Canadian border in the weeks after the events of November 11th.”_

 

_Stress levels: 65%_

 

Connor listened to the news radio as he drove Hank home from the hospital. They had a particularly troubled android suspect involved in their case, and both of them had been pretty beaten up from trying to apprehend it. His poor partner got a concussion from a nasty hit against a concrete wall. He had been miserable in the hospital, and couldn’t wait to get discharged so they could sleep in their own bed. Connor had taken small stasis breaks in the guest chair of Hank’s recovery room, but he found it difficult to stay asleep for very long as he checked the news over and over.

 

He told Markus he couldn’t go because of this case; while he didn’t regret staying behind because Hank needed him, he was growing guilty about not accompanying his comrades to serve as their travel security. He trusted Nines to do a fine job, but they didn’t stop him from worrying about his counterpart on top of all of it.

 

Hank groaned from the passenger seat as he was dragged into the house, “Ughhhh I could go for an entire pint of sweet and sour pork.”

 

“That me a bit too greasy for your system to handle right now,” Connor chided gently, receiving an unamused glare back. He softened, kissing Hank’s cheek as he got up to check the kitchen. “But… I think an exception can be made for something else you like,” he dug through the freezer, pulling out a box of fish sticks. “Protein and amino-3 acids are recommended after a concussion, want me to start heating them up?”

 

Hank nodded from the couch, “this means no tv, too… right?”

 

Connor distributed the sticks on a tray, sliding it into the preheating oven. “Correct, but I can put on a movie with the brightness down if you’d like something stimulating?” Hank winced as he sat up to get the remote, and Connor immediately laid him back down. “But first… how about some water and painkillers for your headache?”

 

“Heh… you know best,” the man huffed, leaning back and fumbling with a blanket to throw over his lap. Connor procured a bottle of pills and a glass of water, checking on dinner.

 

Hank eventually picked a movie; some old Western that he used to watch with his cousins, resting against the couch’s arms with eyes half-lidded toward the ceiling. “I slept for God knows how long last night, how the fuck am I already tired?”

 

Connor debated answering, but calculated a 76% chance that the question was rhetorical, and instead went back to doing some light cleaning around the house. A notification popped up on his HUD, and he opened it upon seeing the urgently blinking red exclamation point.

 

_“We have received confirmation that the NYPD has been called to the United Nations building, after reports of gunfire from the lobby of one of the upper floors. We have no information at this time about any victims, however, several android technicians who were on standby have been brought upstairs._

 

_Stress levels: 85%_

 

Connor turned off the news report, letting out an unnecessary exhale in an attempt to calm himself down. Talking down someone else was one thing; Connor knew how to read their faces and vital signs, whether human or android. Dealing with himself had been another thing, and typically he wasn’t very successful. He usually relied on Hank to make him open up, but he didn’t want to bother the lieutenant while he recovered. He could hold off on telling him until tomorrow.

 

The painkillers only did so much for his headache, so Connor had to coax Hank into eating dinner despite the pounding in his skull. It was a slow process; only six fried fish sticks with a little dab of ketchup on each bite, but he finished them without much further protest.

 

“Can I get you more water, Hank?” Connor asked from beside him on the sofa. Hank finished his last few small forkfuls of dinner, only mildly acknowledging that he was being spoken to. “Hank?”

 

“Uhhh, yeah… yeah, sorry. Thanks,” he mumbled. Connor gave him an empathetic smiling before hopping out of the seat with the glass in hand. He filled it most of the way with water, and also grabbed a half-finished bottle of Gatorade from the fridge. He brought both drinks back to the table, curling up on the couch with a book he had picked out from Hank’s shelf.

 

“Ugh… this shit’s fucking disgusting,” Hank said, staring at the bottle of red liquid.

 

Connor furrowed his brows, “I’m sorry, would you prefer a different flavor? I could run out and get a-”

 

“No. Ughhhh, they’re all fucking terrible,” he said taking a sip anyway.

 

Frowning, Connor spoke quietly “the electrolytes will help you stay hydrated, and-”  


“I fucking know that! I’m a goddamn adult, I know what shit’s good for me, all right? Ack…” He gripped his skull just after lashing out, rubbing the bridge of his nose in discomfort.

 

_Stress levels: 88%_

 

Connor stayed quiet, not wishing to bother Hank anymore, until minutes had dragged on and he watched his partner continue rubbing his face painfully.

 

“Fuckin’ shitballs…” he groaned. “Sorry, I… I don’t know why I said it like that.”

 

Connor scooted closer on the couch, like a fire had finally been put out, and wrapped his arms around Hank. “Irritability and mood swings are common after concussions. It’s okay,” he nuzzled into the shoulder closest to him.  
  
Hank breathed heavily, “that doesn’t mean shit. I shouldn’t take it out on you. You’ve dealt with my stubborn ass more than enough.”

 

_Stress levels: 73%_

 

He turned; his face was still twisted in pain but softened a little to give his boyfriend a small kiss. “I’m going to turn in pretty soon…” he said.

 

“Shall I carry you to bed?” Connor offered.  
  
“No, Connor you don’t need to- woah!” Hank was scooped up into Connor’s arms in a moment, and he held on for dear life. “Shit, oh god, okay… you sure?”

 

Connor snuck a peck on Hank’s beard, “I wouldn’t offer if I could not, Lieutenant.”

 

Hank was tucked snugly into bed, another dose of painkillers and water at the ready beside him. “Is the temperature all right? Shall I turn down the thermostat?”

 

“Nahh… I’m good. Sorry for going to bed so early, it’s just-”

 

Connor shushed him with a single finger, “sleep will make you feel better. I can occupy myself just fine. Your phone is in the living room charging, since you shouldn’t look at any screens, but I’ll come check on your if you wake up.”

 

“What, you got a nanny-cam in here?” Hank shifted further under the covers, looking for a sweet spot.

 

“No, I constantly monitor your life signs and can tell whether you are conscious or not,” Connor explained simply. He stepped toward the door, a curl of his finger away from turning off the lights, and saw Hank give him a suspicious face. “Sleep well, Hank.”

 

“G’night, Con.”

 

The door finally closed, Connor slid down it to sit on the floor for a moment, writing up a message to send to Nines.  
  
_Connor: Is everyone all right? Are you hurt?_

 

He sat in silence for a few minutes, observing Hank’s heart rate while waiting for a response, until he saw a little checkmark that his message was read. He stood up, and looked around the house for something to occupy him for the time being.

 

_Nines: Hello. A few of us sustained injuries, but the suspect has been apprehended by local law enforcement._

 

 _Connor: Us? To what extent is the damage?_   


_Nines: I am not allowed to speak on behalf of the others, I’m sorry._

 

_Connor: What about you?_

 

Puttering around the home, Connor waited unhappily for a response. He knew Nines didn’t like other worrying about him, not even Gavin. The dishes we all cleaned, some having been left from before they left for the precinct before everything went haywire. The laundry spun in the dryer, and most of the miscellaneous clutter had been tucked away in its place.

 

_Connor: Nines, please tell me. I’ll find out sooner or later, won’t I?_

 

The last two messages were still unread by the time Connor decided to go out to the store, leaving a note and a phone near the bottle of painkillers in the bedroom. He started up Hank’s car, starting to make up a grocery list, when another notification popped up.

 

_Warning: Energy charge at 45%. Thirium at 70% of full capacity. Please seek repairs._

 

He whisked away the message, navigating to the 24/7 pharmacy just at the edge of their suburb, pulling in to park as a message finally came in that he was waiting for.

 

_Nines: Markus was targeted specifically, however all of us received damage. The floor is currently on lockdown until safe transportation can be secured._

 

_Stress levels: 79%_

 

Frustrated, Connor replied.

 

_Connor: That doesn’t answer my question. How much damage did you sustain?_

 

He locked the stationwagon, stepped through the automatic doors and distracting himself through the aisles of the store. The basket was filled with a variety of sports drink options for Hank to choose from, some milk and eggs, and the stronger-strength painkillers from that the hospital prescribed. Hank insisted he didn’t need them, but Connor knew he was just being stubborn about it.

 

The android at the pharmacy counter smiled as they handed him the bag, “would you like to pay for those here? Save you a trip to the other registers?”

 

Nodding he set the basket on the table, “yes, please.” They scanned each item, and he looked around the empty store pensively. The TV near the small waiting area showed aerial shots of Manhattan, and he tuned into the audio feed.

 

_“... have been shot, and are in critical condition, according to the staff inside.”_

 

“That will be $44.13, would you like a bag?” Connor was startled out of his focus, and nodded as he sent the payment over cybernetically. “Have a good day!” The android chirped.

 

“You as well…” he replied half-heartedly. Driving back home quickly, he put everything away and pulled up the most recent report on what happened.

 

_“Markus, the android revolution’s leader, is in critical condition after an attempted assassination during a peace summit. His companions are also injured and are currently being treated. Their security detail, an RK900 and the last completed project of the now in-limbo CyberLife, was able to detain the assailant. All are currently awaiting transport to a repair facility in Hell’s Kitchen, after which they will reschedule their planned meeting. That’s all from CNT News, and we’ll be back after a short commercial break.”_

 

_Stress Levels: 95%_

 

Connor leaned against the kitchen counter, processing the information as his systems continued to fire errors and warnings at him. He just wanted it all to stop.

 

If he could just focus on Hank… just try not to think too much on it…

 

He blamed himself for not going; between him and Nines, they probably would have prevented the attack in the first place.

 

Hank stirred in the bedroom, and Connor steeled himself as he entered slowly. “Hi, Hank…” he said, voice sounding a little more weary than he would’ve liked.

 

“Mmmmph…” Hank moaned from the bed. “What time is it?”

 

“Still pretty late, but you got a few hours of pretty heavy sleep,” he sat beside Hank. Uncapping the new bottle of pills and some water, he offered them to his drowsy partner. Hank took the new medication, not commenting on how they got there, and washed them down with three giant gulps of water. “I went to the store to get a few things, but I can go back out if you want anything to help you feel better?”

  
Hank reached up with squinted eyes, caressing Connor’s face lovingly, “you’ve done more than enough. I’ll be fine, Con, I’ve handled worse on my own; I really appreciate you taking care of me like this, though.” Connor leaned into the touch as the hand traced down his neck and chest. It rested there for a minute, “hey… does your thirium pump always beat this slowly? Seems a lot different than it usually-”

 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” Connor interjected defensively, taking the hand and kissing it before placing it back over the covers. “Why don’t you get some more sleep, all right?”

 

“All right, all right, Doctor Connor. Don’t stay up too late, got it?”

 

_Stress Levels: 80%_

 

Connor nodded, “I’ll be in soon.” He escaped to the couch before Hank could ask any more questions, trying to call Nines or Simon for an update. Neither one picked up, much to the dismay of his growing anxiousness. They were likely at the repair center by now, and he knew it’d be too intrusive to call the facility directly for an update. He decided to take a few hours to go through all of the case paperwork that had been put off, since Hank was rushed to the ER so quickly. The two nights in the hospital felt like a strange fever dream at this point. At least it was over...

 

About half-way through, something in his system snapped, sending him into low power mode. His visuals became dim and fuzzy, and he huffed in defeat as he went back into the bedroom to cuddle up beside Hank. Removing his suit, which he hadn’t taken off in a couple of days at this point, it felt a little relieved to slip under the blankets in just in briefs with his warm human just beside him.

 

He entered stasis, keeping himself on easy-wake protocols just in case. It wouldn’t been deep sleep, but it’d be good enough for now.

  


Around four AM, Connor was roused from stasis for a phone call, immediately answering it and getting up to go into the living room. He felt a little uneasy and unsure on his feet, but he kept all notifications suspended anyway.

 

“Hello? Nines, are you all right?”

 

He heard the RK900 sigh from the other end, “yes, Connor. I’m fine. My chest plates and an arm component were replaced, but I am functioning optimally.”

 

_Stress Levels: 84%_

 

“And the others? It sounded bad on the news, Nines, I just-”

 

“They’re all fine now. We’re a bit rattled, but the meeting will take place early tomorrow morning, and before they announce it to the public.”

 

Connor nodded, “That’s good…”

 

“How is the lieutenant? Detective Reed informs me that he suffered an injury. Is he recovering well?”

 

“Yeah, a moderate concussion. He’ll be out for a while, and I’m taking a few days off to look after him.” Connor said, rubbing his stiff neck from the awkward angle he had been laying at. He could feel the effects of his ignored low energy levels, only barely made better by the small amount of time in stasis.

 

“Send him my… wishes for him to recover quickly. And how are you, Connor?”

 

He hesitated, “I’m… I’m functioning adequately.”

 

The returned pause showed Nines’s clear dissatisfaction with the answer, but he didn’t pry. “Very well. I apologize if I disrupted your sleep. We will be in touch tomorrow after the meeting, since I imagine you would like to hear the results.”  
  
“Yes, I would. Thank you.”

 

Without a good-bye, Nines hung up, and Connor slouched a little before going back into bed, careful not to rouse Hank by mistake. He was a little relieved from the update, taking in a deep breath and getting up. Startled, the bedroom door opened before him, a very sleepy-looking Hank emerging. “Did I wake you? I’m so sorry!”

 

Rubbing his eyes, Hank spoke in his deeper, sleepy voice. “Nah, just needed to take a piss. What are you doing up?” He rested his hands gently on Connor’s shoulders, “you’re shaking, what’s wrong, honey?”

 

**_Warning: Shutdown in 00:05_ **

 

“I-I’m fine, Hank, I’m-”

  


\----

  


When he woke up, he could faintly hear Hank calling his name. For a moment, he wondered if he was somehow dreaming, but when his eyes fluttered open he saw Hank holding an emptied thirium packet desperately.

 

“Thank fuckin’ Christ… you scared the shit outta me!” Connor realized he was sitting on the floor, pulled up against the wall to hold him upright, and a panel in his forearm was opened where Hank had pumped in the replenishing thirium.

 

A wave of embarrassment washed over him, and tried to get up. He couldn’t move, his systems still rebooting. “Mmmph… Hank-k… you should b-be in bed-”

 

“I told you, got up to go to the- ugh, Connor what's going on? I've never seen you shut down like that, I was about to call one of the techs from the station, “ Hank said, managing his partner up to his feet and walking him to the bed. They sat bed along the edge, and he placed a supporting hand on Connor's back. “Talk to me, please.”

 

“That… that meeting at the UN-” Connor started.

 

“You said you didn’t want to go, I thought? Don’t you hate big crowds?”

 

“Yes… yes b-but…” Connor stuttered out, and he felt his stupid, unnecessary, synthetic tear ducts start to leak all over his cheeks. He didn’t want Hank to worry, or exert himself; Hank’s heart rate and blood pressure were both up because of him. The best he could do was hang his head down as liquid dripped into his lap.

 

“Noo… no, baby, c’m’ere…” Hank leaned the android in towards him, letting the damp face collide with the sleeping shirt he had on. Tangling his fingers in the soft, brown hair, he hushed Connor’s choked sobs. “I gotcha, Con… I gotcha.”

 

“Someone… someone tried to kill Markus. All of them. N-nines was even…” his voice cut out, and he gripped Hank closer. “I couldn't protect you, and I couldn't protect them. What _good_ am I?! What good am I if I can't-” He whined in anguish as he sunk into Hank's embrace, mind racing and hardly hearing the the man speak to him in a low, calming tone.

 

“It's not your fault, Connor,” he whispered, rocking Connor gently. “It couldn’t be your fault, you can't do everything. And that's _okay_.” He lifted Connor's face, with some resistance, to look straight into his eyes. “You do so goddamn much; I see it every day. But you can't punish yourself for things you can't control.”

 

“I didn't mean to let this happen, Hank,” his cries became pitiful and quiet. “I was so scared for them, for you, I didn't want to- ”

 

Hank pressed small kisses along Connor's head, “I know, Con. You care so much, but if you're hurting you gotta tell me. I may be concussed, but I can still listen, yeah? I can still hold you and support you.”

 

“I'm sorry, Hank…”

 

Shaking his head, Hank hummed. “That's not my point, honey. Don’t be sorry, okay? Just… please be careful. I always want to know if something's up,” he fell backwards onto the bed, bringing Connor down with him so they were laying side by side. The android burrowed into Hank’s arms, resting together for just a little while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still taking prompts!!!
> 
> Find me on Twitter: @canticumexvacui


	7. Stone Cold Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> C/w - Android body horror, kidnapping, mind control, violence
> 
>  
> 
> Prompt from fincherly!

 

_ “Step away from the android!” _

 

Hank sat sternly in Fowler's office, watching bodycam footage from their newest rookie. He was just following protocol; his partner for the night had been compromised and he did what he was told to avoid getting killed. The problem being was that Connor was assigned to be his mentor for the night. They were jumped while patrolling, and they shot a taser into the androids back; the electric shock caused his system to go into kernel panic and shut down.

 

_ “Put the fucking gun down! On the ground, now!” _

 

The poor kid was crying, both in the video and beside Hank in the Captain's office. He had burst into the precinct, apologizing and shaking, immediately running to Hank. Everyone knew the two partners were close, just not how close. When he told Hank that Connor had been taking, he probably would've yelled out if he wasn't so blindsided in panic. 

 

“Anderson, we'll start getting a team together to find him. I've sent the footage to the RK900 to identify the suspects, him and Gavin will-”

 

“I want in on the team,” Hank interrupted. 

 

“Lieutenant,” Fowler said sternly, “I know you'll do anything to get your partner back, but we can't risk-”

 

Interrupting again, Hank stood up, “that wasn’t a fuckin’ request Jeffery. You wanna make an impression on these new officers? Fine. But I'm going after him with or without help.”

 

Fowler rubbed his forehead, glancing at the young officer who looked on expectedly like he was still waiting for a punishment. “I'll go too,” he squeaked out.

 

Rolling his eyes, the captain relented. “Fine. Six-person team, take Chen and Person with you. But I want you to get a  _ motive _ and I want this done  _ by the fucking book _ . You understand me?” He asked Hank, who nodded. “Anderson, Steele, you're both dismissed.”

 

Hank descended the stairs toward Gavin's desk, where the RK900 had taken over his seat and was interfacing with the monitor. 

 

“Find anything?” Hank asked.

 

“”Of f'cking course he did, Nines is a goddamn super-computer,” Gavin said, spinning back and forth in an absconded chair to the side.

 

The android looked up briefly at Hank, his own concern for Connor hiding behind a blank expression. “The suspects are both wanted for illegal android experimentation and mutilation.” 

 

Reeling a little, Hank leaned against the desk. “Well.. great. Where the fuck are they?”

 

“I followed them through CCTV to a foreclosed residential building. It was previously owned by a CyberLife technician. There is a strong possibility the owner had materials in-house, which…” Uncharacteristically for the RK900, he let out a small exhale, “it can be assumed they are being utilized again.”

 

“Shit…” moving around the desk,  he looked at the map and files pulled open. “This place is, what, twenty minutes away, thirty tops? If we're gonna get Connor back, we gotta move fast.”

 

“I agree,” the RK900 said, standing and gesturing to Gavin. “We should obtain kevlar, and close-range weapons.”

 

The rookie nodded, “I'll go find Chen.”

 

Each officer feared up, packing into two unmarked vehicles to drive to the site. They weren't sure how many people they would have to deal with, so they planned for RK and the Officer Steele to stay by the police vehicles as backup. 

 

Hank could feel himself shaking as they got closer. The two guys who took Connor had been on their radar for months, but had fallen off the map recently. Connor's position with the department wasn't exactly a secret, the only saving grace was that none of his specs could be found readily available like standard household models. 

 

They sat in the car, waiting for the nearby patrol to give the clear, as they had squared in the surrounding streets to avoid any escapes. Receiving the all clear, they moved into position. Tina Chen and Hank took lead, knocking on the front door and announcing their presence. With no reply, they busted the door open, weapons drawn. 

 

The light cast from their flashlights swung from side to side, checking around the first room of the house. Footsteps scrambling around were heard upstairs, a table knocked over, glass shattering.

 

“This is Anderson and Chen,” Hank said quietly into the radio, “suspects on second floor. Reed, clear to move in. Hey Nines, what can you see up there?”

 

After about a minute, the radio buzzed, and Connor's lookalike spoke plainly, “Four life signs upstairs, including our two confirmed assailants. There is a strong electrical output from the top floor and basement… which should not be possible since the building is no longer connected to the electric grid.” 

 

Hank nodded, “Generators?”

 

“It is possible… shall I advance in?”

 

“No, not yet. Just keep an eye on things, let us know if you notice anything weird.” Hank started up the stairs, one at a time. Chen stayed at the bottom to keep lookout, while Reed and Person followed him up.

 

There was a room with a light coming from the other side of the door. Gavin tried the handle, finding it locked, and took cover as he shot the door handle to allow them access. 

 

Over the radio, RK spoke up, “all four suspects are fleeing through the window. Steele and I are in pursuit.” 

 

“Copy that,” he motioned to the two officers that they could move in, hoping to God they would find Connor on the other side of the door.

 

The wish was granted, but not pleasantly so. His android stood deathly still, head down, toward the back of the room; a long, thick cable cascaded from the back of his head, across the floor, to a large repair rig where another android was being held up. 

 

“Please.. help me!” The PL300 cried out, voice chopped, weak, and full of static. It was mangled, the front chest piece torn away to reveal the older model's components. 

 

They started to advance, when Connor looked up. His eyes, usually warm and full of life, were opposingly red in color, but cold in expression. The grey jacket he typically wore had been lost, and the pristine white shirt was in tatters with thirium coating the edges. He lifted one of his arms, revealing a silenced pistol in his grasp, and aimed it behind him at the android on the rig. “Step closer, and I shoot,” his voice was harsh and robotic, lacking even the emotion that was simulated before he was a deviant.

 

“Connor, put the gun down,” Hank ordered, turning to Reed. “Get Nines up here when they have the suspects.”

 

Instead of cooperating, Connor merely tilted his head. “You should leave, before unnecessary violence occurs.”

 

“Snap out of it! What the fuck did they do to you?” Hank asked, taking a careful step forward.

 

Noticing the movement, the gun in Connor’s hand fired. The bullet flew clear through the androids forehead, and it went limp. With fast movements, he cocked the gun and aimed it at Reed. “Depart. Immediately.”

 

“Woah woah, Hank, maybe we should hang back…” Gavin took a few steps toward the door, clicking the receiver on her radio to send a message in morse code to Nines.

 

Hank shook his head, but also retreated slowly, “Connor, listen to me. This isn’t  _ you _ . Those dickbags messed you up; I know you’re in there listening! You can fight whatever this is!”

 

The gun discharged again, Reed jumped away and stared at the hole in the old, wooden floor, “SHIT!” While distracted, Person took the opportunity to shoot the gun out of Connor’s hand, grazing a few of his fingers in the process.   
  


“Fuck, be careful!” Hank barked, shooing the two officers away.

 

They left the room, Gavin calling back “CAREFUL MY ASS! He almost shot me!”

 

It had been  _ years _ since Hank had to talk down a hostile suspect, and dealing with his mind-controlled best friend was already an emotional challenge for him. But… no time like the present?   
  


“I’m gonna put down my gun, and we’re gonna wait for the RK900 to get up here, okay?” He set down his service weapon, hands up innocently as he stepped forward. Connor bolted in response, only for the cable in his neck to halt him, and he stumbled backwards with an angry grimace. Hank could see Connor’s composure breaking, looking wild and unruly. “Gav, any updates?”

 

“Nines is on his way up now; you okay in there, old man?” Reed replied from the hall.

 

Hank shook his head, taking his time to move in. “Those assholes fucked you up, but it’s gonna be okay…” Instead of replying, Connor merely strained against the cable, grunting as he tried to pull himself free, until Nines entered the room.

 

“Lieutenant, is he…” 

 

“I don’t know what the fuck they did. They fucked up his programming,” Hank admitted, watching the taller android approaching with no fear as his counterpart lashed out. They wrestled; Connor scratched at Nines’s face, revealing the white plastic beneath, until arms were tightly wrapped around him. “RK800, stop this!” The angry facade was slipping a little more, fearful desperation as he tried to wriggle himself out of the harsh grasp. “FINE!” Nines tightly gripped Connor’s wrist, forcing them to interface. 

  
  
  
  


\---

 

Nines stepped forward in the swirling snowstorm. The tree limbs hung heavy, ice clinging to the branches, and he held a hand out in front of him as he stepped forward. “CONNOR!” He looked around; he knew there was an exit point, the strange stone with a touchpad. Getting his bearings, he continued to wade through the deep snow drifts. 

 

“RK800, can you hear me?” He yelled out again, looking around for his predecessor, finally seeing a body moving a few dozen yards away. “Connor!” Reaching his target, he saw Connor was dressed back in his old uniform, standing knee deep in the frozen pond. Shivering with arms wrapped around himself,Connor could only look up upon hearing his name, the blurry image of Nines appearing before him. 

 

“We need to get you out of here,” Nines said, lifting the frozen form harshly out of the iced over water and over his shoulder. It was only an illusion, but the cold felt as real as the harsh Detroit winters as he carried Connor to the pedestal. He lowered Connor, pressing both of their palms against the cool, glass pad.

 

\---

  
  


Returning to reality, the two androids slumped to the floor, both shaking and panting hard. “Shit, NINES!” Gavin ran in to check on his partner, while Hank already had Connor in his arms with his kevlar jacket tossed aside.

 

Connor mumbled incoherently, trembling weakly, a thousand-yard stare while Hank tried to get his attention, “I gotcha, you’re back with us.” The effect of the freezing Zen Garden translated through, his synthetic skin was freezing to the touch, and his systems had a hard time trying to warm back up. “Nines, you okay over there?” 

 

“Yes… fine…” the android said, struggling a little while Reed helped him sit up.

 

“Do you think you can get this cable out of his fuckin’ head?” Hank asked, already knowing that just pulling wouldn’t be enough to get it out. 

 

Nines wobbled to the side, reaching for Connor’s neck, and his hand turned crisp white once again, “C’mon… almost got it… now!” As Nines called out, Hank yanked the cord away. “They were using him to power the unit in the corner… had to… disengage the grounding failsafe.” 

 

Connor convulsed, clutching at Hank’s shirt, until he spotted the pool of blue blood. “I - I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to kill him, please!” 

 

Hank shushed him, “we know it wasn’t you, Con. Don’t worry about it, okay?” He lifted the android up, walking him down the stairs to the police vehicles, calling in to Fowler as they rode in the car. Connor stayed silent as walked into the station, and was seated at his desk while Hank ran around to take care of paperwork and logging equipment use. 

 

Every once in a while, he spared a look at his partner, still shaking and staring at the floor. After about an hour, Nines eventually walked him to one of the interrogation rooms to talk in private. Connor was sensitive about interfacing on a  _ good _ day, but he also understood it would be the easiest way to show what happened. Either way, Connor never looked his way, purposeful or not, so he went back to powering through work. The sooner he was done, the sooner they could go home.

 

He was down to just sorting through some residual paperwork on his desk, when the RK900 approached him with his broad, even steps. “Lieutenant?”

 

“Yeah?” Hank looked up, unable to read the android’s face.

 

“Connor is in the interrogation room. I thought it best if you… perhaps, brought your car around to the back door, and I will escort him there.” 

 

Setting down his files and grabbing his coat and keys, Hank’s brain was in a frenzy. “Sure, yeah… uhh… everything all right?”

 

Nines looked away, equal parts frustration and guilt settling on his face, “the situation was rather intense, and he is experiencing a rather acute, emotional response. I thought it would be in his best interest to avoid walking out through the bullpen.” 

 

Hank took a moment to decipher the fancy-talk as he walked toward the front door, “uhhh, right. Gimme about 5 minutes, and I’ll meet you over there?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Hank all but ran to his car, revving it awake and pulling up to the emergency exit door at the back of the precinct. He parked the car, opening the passenger door preemptively and gave the door a quick knock. Leaning against the car, the door opened to reveal Nines leading Connor by his shoulders. A dark, red hoodie from the lost and found box had been thrown over him, contrasting with his dress pants and shoes. 

 

“Thank you, Nines,” Connor whispered, sad eyes finally looking up at Hank for a moment before he climbed into the car. 

 

It was a surprisingly short drive home, despite the silence, since it was about 2AM and no one was driving around. Hank didn’t want to stress out Connor any more than he already was, so when they got home he softly told Connor to lay down in bed, and he’d be around if needed. Connor disappeared into the dark bedroom, leaving the door ajar but face planting right into the pillows. Puttering around, here and there, Hank left him alone until he was about ready to go to sleep himself. 

 

He crept in, slipping out of his clothes and sliding under the covers in just his boxers. Connor’s back rose and fell gently, deep in stasis as his systems repaired and defragmented. With a whisper, he said “goodnight,” and fell asleep after a long, trying day.


	8. Gone Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And undercover mission goes wrong, and Hank fears for the worst.
> 
>  
> 
> Prompt from Skks

Undercover missions were always a gamble for Hank. He wasn’t a great actor, and therefore, not a great liar in general. The required haircut and beard trim were nice, but getting into a “costume” to go confront some black market dealers made him... uncomfortable. But, Fowler insisted that it had to be them. After all, Connor had a perfectly photographic memory, and the other officers on the case away the station could keep an eye on how things were going and relay a call for intervention to the officers on standby. It wasn’t a bad plan… but it also wasn’t a very good plan.

 

The dealers in question handled a few different varieties of illegal trade. Drugs, primarily. But more recently, there was evidence that they were involved in selling android parts, and even specialized weapons for anti-android terrorists. 

 

“Ya know, a year later and some assholes still haven’t gotten the fuck over it. If you don’t like androids, then you should just move to one of those android-free areas,” Hank commented bitterly as they drove to the meetup location.

 

Connor listened silently, merely nodding as he looked out the window.

 

“You good, Con?” Hank asked, reaching a hand over the gear shift to his partner’s knee.   
  


Connor smiled at the small gesture, taking the hand in both of his and rubbing the calloused palms lovingly. “I’m fine. It’s just unpleasant to think of what they have done to those androids we found last week. I’ll be better once we can get more insight on their operation, and then take them down.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” Hank said, pulling into a parking lot around the corner from the dive bar. “Are you sure you wanna do this? ‘Cuz once we’re in, we gotta stick with it, and I don’t-”

 

“It’ll be fine, Hank. I’m already yours; pretending to be your illegal, factory-reset companion will be easy enough,” he said, winking and leaning in to kiss Hank in reassurance.

 

Hank gave him a big smooch on the apple of his cheek, smiling as he heard Connor give a little giggle. “We’ll try to stick to the script, get out as soon as we can, and then the case gets handed over to Gavin and Nines. Ready to check in?” 

 

Connor handed Hank his earpiece, activating his own link to the other team.

 

“This is Anderson and Connor; we’re ready to go in. All clear?”

 

A voice very similar to Connor's came through on the device,  _ “All clear on our end, Lieutenant. There are two officers in a car around the corner on standby, and Sergeant Reed and I have a connection to the CCTV in the establishment. We are two blocks away, and will be monitoring the perimeter.” _

 

“Good, great,” he looked over at Connor as he snapped in his LED and activated the lights in the custom uniform jacket for the assignment. “Moving in.”

 

They stepped out of the car, walking around the corner to an alleyway to a cellar door with a bodyguard standing by. Hank flashed their invitation, and the hatch door was opened and they were escorted down the stairs to the tiny bar. The air was hazy with cigarette smoke, and dimmed under-lighting along the walls left the faces of most of the patrons hidden. Hank put on his best confident look as they walked straight to the back, finding the private room where three mens sat around a poker table. 

 

“You must be Mr. Pine,” one of them said, gesturing to the single open seat at the table. “Join us, let’s talk business; the name’s Paul.”

 

“You can park the ‘droid in the corner there with mine,” another man said, pointing to the side where a refurbished ST200 model sat on a small, wooden bench. It was strange to Hank, seeing the same face as the Chloe models from Kamski’s place, but her features has been altered dramatically. Hank doubted that an android could look any more artificially constructed, her figure disproportioned to look like some kind of 90’s porn star. He nodded to Connor, who gave a purposefully blank nod in return as he joined the other android.

 

Guilt ate away at Hank. If they were breaking this group down tonight, they might be able to free the poor thing, give her a new life. He was sure Connor was thinking the same thing as they both took their seats.

 

“So, heard you were lookin’ for some parts for your housekeeper. Is that it?” Paul asked as he pointed to Connor, clearing the poker game away. The third man, who was by far the largest, went to the corner and poured glasses of whiskey for each of them.

 

Hank accepted the tumbler, but only took the smallest sip from it. “Sure is. Salvaged it from one of those old junkyards, but the fuckin’ thing doesn’t have anything downstairs. Nothing down there to fuck; not as much fun, ya know?” He said with bile his mouth and turning to the owner of the ST200, who chuckled.

 

“Sure as hell not, my friend,” he replied, pulling out a tablet with a gallery of pictures open. “This is what we’ve got at the warehouse, see anything you like?”

 

The lieutenant took the tablet, inwardly fighting the growing urge to puke. Each photo had different genital components, displayed and photographed like they were fucking car parts in an eBay listing. He scrolled through them, chewing on his lip. This wasn’t part of the plan.

 

_ “Hank… call me over to the table to take a look. If I can interface with the it, we could get everything on there.” _ Connor said through his earpiece, speaking telekinetically.  _ “Say that we need a better view of what will look good on me, and I’ll hold it in front.” _

 

After another sip of alcohol, Hank turned toward the two androids. “C’mere,” he commanded, wagging a finger to Connor, and then turning to the sellers. “You don’t mind if I get a little side-by-side comparison, right? Gotta see what’ll look good on him.”

 

Thankfully they seemed to buy the excuse, causing no fuss as Connor took the tablet in hand, holding the screen over his crotch as Hank scrolled through the pictures.

 

_ “I’ll need 30 seconds to get everything, try to stall them as long as possible.” _

 

“What do you guys think?” Hank asked, flipping between a few different photos nervously.

 

Paul spoke first, raising his glass as he did. “I’m always a fan of the snatches, myself. Those Traci models were built to be perfect, some of them are even self-lubricating so you don’t gotta do a damn thing.”

 

“It’s true,” the android-owner added, “but if you’ve got a budget for modifications, we can give it two holes, it’ll just be a little harder to install.”

 

Trying the hide the nervous shaking in his hands, Hank scratched his hair and looked at the tablet. 

 

_ “Ten more seconds,” _

 

“So, you got an asking price for, uhhh, this one?” He flipped to one of the random components, feeling a wash of discomfort. The piece had messily torn thirium line dangling from the small pedestal it sat on, making him grimace a little.

 

“Most of these go for about a thousand,” Paul explained, earning a cough from Hank.

 

“Geez, that much?”

 

“You must understand, Mr. Pine…” the so-far silent one started, “with these fuckers having freedom now, if you ain’t a registered android, you can’t get these anywhere. We go to great lengths to acquire them, and really, there’s almost no return on our end for the time and effort paid to our technician friends.”

 

Hank seriously wanted to barf out his guts. How could these assholes sleep at night?

 

_ “We got it, Hank. Let’s try to reschedule and get out.” _ Connor suggested.

 

Hank took the tablet, waving Connor away, and sliding it across the table. “You got me boys, but I might need some time to consider which one I want.”

 

“But, you’re a guaranteed customer? We hope you’ll forgive us, but we aren’t in the business of anyone who’s gonna hem and haw over a fucking part,” Paul glared at him.

 

“No no, I’m solid. Just need to sleep on it before making a final decision, ya know?” He started to stand up, taking another sip of whiskey. “It’s, uhh, quite the operation you got here.”

 

Paul smiled, “well if you’re a done deal, we can take your android with us and get started on preparing the fittings.” 

 

Hank turned to see the ST200 take Connor by the arm.  _ “Hank, help!” _ Connor cried through his ear desperately.

 

_ “Sending some boys in now to try and intercept. Stay cool, distract ‘em. Play dumb until they’re in custody,” _ Gavin called through.

 

“Now hang on a minute, I’m gonna need him around for-”

 

The larger man stood up, “you said you’ll sleep on the aesthetics, but the procedure will take a while before the thing’ll be ready for the part. This’ll save you some time, and it’ll be good to go by tomorrow night.” 

 

Hank shook his head, hands on his hips, “I didn’t fuckin’ agree to this, now why don’t we-”

 

Paul drew a pistol from his coat, as did the other two. Connor had all but disappeared out the door, and Hank held up his hands as he cursed loudly in his head.

 

“I think you’ll fuckin’ survive without it for a night. Besides, it’s hard to believe that you just  _ happened _ to have found an RK800. The same model serving with the Detroit Police.” The larger man said, the three of them moving to the door with their guns still pointed at Hank.   
  
“The fuck’re you talking about?!” Hank yelled, but his composure and voice were breaking as he attempted to continue the rouse.

 

The door slammed him inside, a lock clicking before he could tear open the knob. He pounded on the wood, shaking at the handle. “GODDAMNIT!” He screamed, trying to kick it down but finding the lock to be too strong. He pressed the button in his pocket to talk through to the others, “they locked me in! Get Connor!”

 

_ “Already on it,”  _ Nines assured him.

 

_ “The f’cking blonde had a gun on her and forced Connor into a van.” _

 

“What?! Is she driving?”

 

_ “No,” _ Nines said.  _ “However, our hosts ran out just as I got them in view.” _

 

At that moment, the door was unlocked and opened, revealing one of the nearby patrol officers. Hank immediately dashed out to the back stairs they passed, quickly getting winded as he climbed up. 

 

_ “They are starting the car. Gavin, License Plate TYG43-” _

 

“No…” Hank ripped the emergency exit door at the top just as the car sped out of the alleyway. “Connor, No!” He wanted to run out after it but was stopped by Nines, and remembered angrily that it would be pointless. “Pull through for me Reed, c’mon.”

 

_ “I’m on ‘em, but I think they have some buddies, too.” _ Gavin said before there was a crashing sound through the earpiece.

 

“Gav?!” Nines called out, the sound bouncing against the walls of the alley.

 

There was a small fit of coughing before Gavin spoke up, “I’m fine, but…” He coughed again. “I lost them. SHIT! Those motherfuckers!” 

 

“We have their data, though, we’ll get him, right?” Hank asked Nines, who nodded with a flustered and frustrated look.

 

“We… we should. Are you sure you are alright, Sergeant?” He said, making his way down the walkway to find the wrecked car with Hank.   
  
Gavin sighed, “Yeah, I’m fine. The passenger side is smashed in, but I’m good.” 

 

\--

 

They returned to the station, Nines insisted that Gavin sit off to the side with a sports drink and an ice pack on his bruised head. He gathered a few of the other station androids, all of them combing through the data from the tablet.

 

“We have the photos, all of which contain metadata with the address of an old automobile plant. But the device itself was kept offline for the most part, it was just for showcasing products.” He almost growled, giving a similar frown Connor would wear when a case was stuck. The sight twisted an invisible vice around Hank's chest. “It also has information about their other enterprises, however, there is no contact information. If they knew Connor’s model, that is probably why they didn’t fuss about the possibility of him interfacing with the tablet and syncing all the data. They knew we wouldn't get much out of it.”

 

Hank clenched his fists, folding his arms and tucking the hands underneath. “Well, let’s try that warehouse first, but they might be too smart for that.”

 

He was, much to his dismay, correct. There was nobody there, but they were able to recover hundreds of parts from one of the storage bays. However, it was just a holding area; not even guarded. 

 

They’d have to start all over in finding the group. Fowler offered to take Hank off the case, but he knew there was no way Hank would sit around and wait.

  
  


\----

 

Connor had attempted to steal the gun from the ST200 when they had gotten outside, but the other android was nearly as fast as him, and shot just to the side of his thirium pump to weaken him. 

 

He sat in the back of the van, clutching his side painfully as the dealers drove wildly out of the alley. He sent his information to the precinct to track the car for as long as they could before the depleting thirium caused him to go into low power mode, blacking out and losing connection. 

  
  


When he woke up, he didn't know where he was. He was attached to a maintenance rig, most of his clothes stripped away and a thick cable connected to the port in his neck. Thick, metal claws were wrapped around his wrists and ankles, resisting as he tries to tug away.

 

All wireless connections had been severed; no phone calls, to GPS tracking, even emergency protocols had been disabled. His thirium was still fairly low, and he peered through the flickering vision at the technician tapping away at the consoles beside him.

 

“It’s such a treat to work on an RK800…” they said, not looking up but clearly aware that Connor was awake. “A prototype, just sent out into the world to figure out its own flaws.” 

 

“What-t-t… are you d-d-doing?” Connor stuttered out, his voice overlaid with static and inconsistencies.

 

The technician wheeled their office chair around to another monitor, clicking at a screen and poking around at Connor’s code. “Oh, just finding what makes your model tick. You’re so much different than other models; so complex and parts so advanced. Your hardware is very efficient, someone will pay a lot for it.”

 

Connor flinched as he felt a buzzing prick his neck, like the edges of the plastic plating under his synthetic skin were burning, until his human-like appearance disappeared entirely. 

 

“P-please… don’t do this…” He begged. “If you return me to the police department, you’ll receive reimbursement for reporting those dealers.”

 

They sighed, “it hasn’t occurred to you that I  _ enjoy _ this? Before all of you started getting fuckin’ rights and freedoms, androids were my life, my hobby. It was fascinating to take them apart and study CyberLife’s handiwork. And you? You’re like getting a fancy, expensive chemistry set as a kid on Christmas. 

 

The buzzing continued, starting to sting harshly. The technician walked up to him, removing the last of his clothes and forcing open his abdominal chamber to look inside. Connor squirmed, desperately wishing to get away, only for a hand to reach in and start digging around his components. 

 

“N-no, please!”

 

Rolling their eyes, the tech reached up to Connor’s neck, squeezing and removed a plate and then prying out his voice box. He became  _ terrified _ , saline dripping from his eyes.

 

“Huh… they even programming you to cry? YK models, sure, but a police model? Probably to induce empathy, I bet.” The tech rambled, continuing to take out piece by piece, removing the limbs one at a time. “I’ll have to take my time studying you.”

 

\--

 

Almost two weeks had passed, and Hank was looking more and more disheveled each time he set foot in the office. He had taken just one day off since the botched mission, and only because Fowler threatened to take him off the case if he didn’t get some rest. 

 

They had tried looking everywhere; following up with the license plate of the van, trying to track down the dealers and sending a few other officers to stake out the dive bar again. But no luck.

 

Nines even exhausted himself by skimming through websites and message boards day and night, getting pulled away by Reed after four days straight when he nearly shut down. It was a brutal, impossible search. Until finally, they found something.

 

“What’d you get, Nines?”   
  
“I found a listing on a private site for a few RK800 parts,” he said, voice unsteady. “There is a contact for the seller, looking for a best offer or trade.

 

“Well great! Let’s get on it!”

 

“Unfortunately an account is required, which I have discovered is by invitation only, and takes forty-eight hours to full activate.”

 

Hank pinched his nose, sighing. “Great… okay, well… let’s start getting on that. The sooner the better.”

 

Gavin was coming back over from getting a cup of coffee, taking a look at the screen. “Wait a sec… Nines, what’s the name of this site?” 

 

“It’s a page on an anti-android forum,” he said, looking over at his partner as his face flushed slightly. “What is it?”

 

“I, uhh… fuck… I’m sorry…” He put down his coffee, and nudged Nines away from the keyboard, pulling open the login page. Typing in a username and password, they were in. He was met with two uncomfortable glares, and he took back his cup and slunk down in his seat. “I joined this shithole two years ago, only used it for like a month, all right? I didn’t like androids, sure, but these people were… I don’t know… it didn’t feel right, and I let the account stay stagnant.”

 

Hank’s face turned apologetic, “I’m just glad you didn’t delete it. Nines, can you send the buyer a message using a VPN? See what we can find?”

  
  


They were sent an address, and a time for the next afternoon. The person made it sound like a Craigslist ad, to “just c’mon by and shop the shelves” like it was a garage sale. They planned out the raid, surrounding the house and ready to move in. 

 

Hank was so nervous. This person had Connor’s parts, but said it was hard to sell them because of the asking prices. It had been so long… what if they did a memory wipe on him? What if his Connor was gone?

 

Reed was the one to knock on the door, catching the guy off-guard as the small brute squad with drawn guns moved in. There was shit everywhere; metal racks of wires and parts in the hardly lit rooms. Hank stepped in, putting his gun to the suspect’s head, “you’ve got all this shit logged, right?” They nodded, panicked. “That RK800, is all of it still here?”

 

“N-no! No, I already sold off the limbs and more common components. Most of it’s still downstairs where I’ve been-”

 

“Shut it! C’mon let’s move.” 

 

There was a small glimmer of hope in Hank’s chest as he bounded down the creaky basement stairs, ripping open the door. The makeshift lab was dark and horrible, and Hank wanted to cry when he saw the torn apart body before them.

 

A mere torso and head sat propped up on a tilted surgical table. Nines was close behind, putting a steadying hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder as he nearly doubled over. “F-fuck… oh fuck…”    
  


He knew it was Connor, it had to be. Nines passed him, approached the table with a carefully apathetic demeanor, placing a hand on Connor’s head and interfacing. After a moment of silently gathering data, he pulled his hand away with a loud gasp. “He is dormant, but no record of a memory wipe. He…” Nines covered his mouth, turning away slightly. “He was awake while he was taken apart. Perhaps we should wait until he is reconstructed to-”

 

Hank shook his head, “I want him to know he’s okay, that we got him. He’s probably scared shitless in there.” Stepping forward, he cupped the familiar jaw, bittersweet tears trying to escape him.

 

Shaking his head, Nines interjected “I really think we should wait, Lieutenant. With that kind of trauma… if he wakes up dismembered like this, his stress levels may be too high.”

 

Giving a shaky breath, Hank smoothed a hand over Connor’s forehead and stepped back. “Yeah… yeah okay. You think you can locate his remaining parts, and I’ll get him out to one of the trucks?”

 

Nines did a scan of the room and house, “Yes, I can do that.”

  
  
  


It was a difficult two hours as they started to clear everything out. They had the precinct’s maintenance truck outside, one of the technicians already starting to snap in Connor's parts as they were recovered. The limbs and components that were gone would be trickier to replace. While his parts were compatible with other androids, Connor’s system wasn’t built to accommodate parts older than himself.

 

They ended up having to drive to the old CyberLife building to acquire the spares they had on hand. Hank watched with a heavy heart as they installed each piece, keeping his beautiful boyfriend in stasis as they went along. All of his systems cleared out, his thirium replenished, and he was finally ready to wake up. Against Hank’s wishes, Nines suggested that they strap him down so he wouldn’t lash out and hurt anyone, even himself, when he was brought out of stasis.

 

“Disabling the emergency lockdown protocol, activating appearance,” Connor’s skin and hair returned. Hank couldn’t help but smile through the painful worry to see his face again. “And…. he should be waking up now.”

 

Brown eyes fluttered open, before a strangled cry escaped and Connor tried to pull himself away from the restraints and bed. 

 

“Easy Connor, its okay.” 

 

Despite Hank’s calm words, he still tried to break away, whimpering and sobbing until Nines grabbed his arm. There was a silent exchange as Connor slowly relaxed, and Nines retracted his reach. Connor lay back, panting. 

 

“Release the restraints,” Nines instructed as he started to do so, the tech copying the motions on the other side. He motioned for both of them to step out and allow Connor and Hank some time privately. 

 

Still shivering like he was freezing in a snowstorm, Connor watched as Hank rose from his chair and the door closed across the room. “Con?” He tried not to lose his composure, but seeing Connor so terrified hurt him so badly. Connor slowly sat up, avoiding Hank’s eyes as he extended his arms forward in front of him, looking himself over with forced, slow breaths.

 

“Connor, please talk to me,” he asked brokenly, resting an open-faced palm out for Connor to take if he wanted.

 

“There… there was so much pain. And then nothing; I felt numb for  _ days _ . Not just my body, but… it was like all emotion was torn from me with each component.” He cautiously reached up, sliding his hand into Hank’s and giving a small shudder. “I had-” Biting his lip, he squeezed Hank but turned away as a small, choked sound croaked from his throat. “I had g-given up, it was just a matter of time until I would shut down and I-”

 

Hank watched as Connor covered his mouth with his free hand, knees drawn up as his face hid between them. “Oh, Connor…”

 

“I shouldn’t have doubted you would come get me, b-but…” His hold on Hank allowed him to pull the man closer, until he was bending over Connor’s bed and getting hugged tightly. “I was afraid… I never thought I’d get to hold you in my arms again, never see your smile…”

 

With the implied permission, Hank returned the embrace and nearly lifted Connor off the bed; it always seemed so strange to Hank how light he was. “I know, baby… I know…”

 

Connor pulled away slightly to look at Hank's face, smile faltering. “You don’t look well, Hank….” He bit his lip as he studied the worn tiredness in his partner, checking the date and time. “You kept searching... for two weeks?”

 

“I would have searched for  _ years _ to get you back, if I had to,” Hank assured. Knowing that his partner was finally safe, he felt his own ribs shaking as he started quietly sobbing into the soft curls. “I missed you so fucking much, baby.”

 

Holding his human a little tighter, Connor nodded and buried himself into the familiar warmth and sweet smell of home. “I missed you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Been a while since I posted one of these, huh? This one had been mostly done for a while, I just completely forgot and never finished it... woops!
> 
> I may try and do a few more of these in between other fics, so if you think of any prompts just shoot em over!
> 
> & come say hi on Twitter: @canticumexvacui


	9. With My Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from catgrl106 !!!!!
> 
> TW - fights, suicidal themes
> 
> Sorry it's a little shorter/not edited!

 

“Fucking hell…” Hank groans. “Connor, it's the weekend, the last thing I want to do right now is go out, okay?”

 

The android looks at him curiously, “it has been several weeks that either of us have gone out for something that wasn't related to work or purchasing-”

 

“Uggghhh! I know that, all right? Give me a fucking break!”

 

Connor speaks calmly and methodically, “I really think it would help you feel better. Maybe not at the moment, but afterwards?”

 

Grumbling, Hank stood from the couch and moved into the kitchen. He opened the fridge door, taking a beer bottle from the shelf. 

 

“Hank…” Connor pleaded, eyes wide and approaching his partner. “It's good to get out of the house for leisure,” he said.

 

The man ignored him, pulling open a drawer and looking for a bottle opener. Frustrated, Connor located it first and pulled it out before Hank could get it.

 

“What the actual fuck, Connor?” He spoke a little louder, slamming the drawer shut. “Are you serious right now? I've filled my fucking quota on being ‘out of the house’ for one week!”

 

His partner sighed; they had some exceedingly long days at work earlier in the week, but he was getting restless being stuck between just work and home. He couldn't tell Hank that, he didn't want to  _ guilt _ the man into going out. And it was getting harder and harder to ignore the negotiation prompts that would appear in his vision.

 

**Compromise**

**Bargain**

**Threaten**

**Plead**

 

Connor wanted to be sincere with Hank, not fall into predetermined tactics. He made his own decision

 

**Tell the truth?**

 

“I would… really like to leave the house, Hank…” he said, voice uncertain. Hank took pounding, thudding steps toward him, eyes flickering at the bottle opener. “Please?”

 

“You don't wanna be here so bad?” Hank's voice was dark, “fine. Get the fuck out of here.” He grabbed the bottle opener, attempting to free it from Connor's grip. The android held on to it tightly, hoping Hank would concede. “You can fuck right off for all I care if you hate being around me.”

 

Connor, shocked by Hank's words, merely stuttered out a fearful “W-what?” 

 

Using his partner's distraction to his advantage, Hank snatched away the cold metal and tore the lid off his bottle. He took a sip in Connor's face, “you heard me. You don't like how I want to live my life? You don't need to be here.”

 

His chest and face felt numb as Connor backed away. “You… you don't-”

 

“Go on,  _ leave _ , if it really sucks so much being around here.” Bellowing, Hank stood his ground with ferocity. 

 

Connor reached toward him hesitantly, he was so frightened. “Hank, your stress levels are-”

 

“I know I'm fucking stressed!” Hank yelled, loud enough that the walls seemed to shake. “Stop fuckin’ scanning me, telling me what you think is good for me! Get the  _ fuck  _ out of my house!!” He was fuming, face red and voice raw. 

 

Flinching back, Connor hung his head. He brought his hands to his sides, fists tight and feeling liquid leak from his eyes. 

 

He thought back to Hank's advice before he deviated.

 

_ Emotions always ruin everythin _ g. 

 

“Fine.” He said, forcing his voice to be monotone as he stormed out, nearly breaking the door frame when he forced the front door behind him. 

 

\---

 

The sound of the front door rang in Hank's ears, and kitchen floor felt suddenly colder beneath his feet. His throat hurt from yelling, and he tried to calm it with another sip of beer, but it only made it sting.

 

From the bedroom, he heard Sumo whining on the bed.

 

“Shut up!” He called out, taking out the residual anger and adrenaline in the command. The pathetic sounds didn't stop, and Hank couldn't even tell if he was still mad, or relieved, or heartbroken.

 

In the heat of the moment, he just blurted the words out. He just wanted to rest at home for the day, his back was killing him and the early signs of arthritis made his feet ache more and more these days.

 

Wiping the spit from his mouth and beard, he staggered backwards as the weight of his own words crashed down on him. 

 

“You asshole…” mouthing the words with no weight to his voice. Hank all but fell into the nearest chair, hunched over and a hand over his throbbing head. “How could-” He continued to himself, feeling a darkness lurking that started to shake him at his core.

 

Resentment flooded him as he pounded his fist against his skull. How could he  _ say _ that to Connor? He had felt off all day, but he didn't mean to make Connor go. 

 

And now… why would Connor come back?

 

Chest fluttering in panic, he sprang up from the chair. He almost toppled over himself as he rushed through to house to the front lawn.

 

“CONNOR!!! I'm sorry!!” Calling out into the night, he wiped his eyes and started running toward one of the main roads. 

 

He made it all the way to the bus stop, before realizing he left his phone at the house. It was a long, oddly paced walk home. 

 

“Useless pile of f-fucking undeserving  _ shit _ you are, Hank…”

 

Walking back into his own, empty-feeling house, the first thing he did was find Sumo on the bed.

 

The massive dog looked pitiful, and a little frightened when Hank walked into his view. “I'm sorry, bud…” 

 

On cue, Sumo descended from the bed to go anxiously paw at Hank's feet. The man couldn't help but smile when a giant tongue found his clammy palm, making it even more wet. He kneeled down, and then laid on the carpet with the big, furry mess laying beside him.

 

“Just like old times, right boy?”

 

\---

The moment Connor closed the door and rushed toward the quiet street, he froze as options started to pop up on his HUD.

  
  


**Go to Jericho**

 

**A̵p̵o̸l̸o̶g̶i̵z̶e̷ ̵t̴o̴ ̷H̵a̵n̸k̷**

 

**Ṛ̵̤̙̱̯͎̥͉͗͆U̸̟̘̩͒̍N̷̥̤͉̻̽̐̉̓̄̃͠ ̵̨̥̿̓̋͑̎̐̔͝ A̸̢͖͕̻̥̺͎͓͌W̷̙̬̙̄̐̐͝ͅȀ̶̺͍̐̌̑̅̾͒̚Ỳ̸͙͊͆**

  
  
  


Without so much of a second longer to process, his legs started to move. Running fast, leaving the small house out of sight with no destination, he just kept going. He thought he heard yelling, like his name was a whisper on the wind, but he couldn’t stop. 

 

Going at top speed, he only stopped when he was nearly across the city. He felt oddly fatigued, breathing heavily to cool his systems. 

 

There was  _ pain _ , a kind of hurt that he hadn't felt before. It burned and ache through his back and chest, up his neck and down his shaking arms. It was worse in his head; his mind replaying the heated argument over and over in his mind. 

 

**Hank doesn't want you around**

 

**Hank doesn't want you**

  
  


His chassis burned in certain places, in spots where Hank would touch him intimately. The skin retracted there, reminding him of who- 

 

Reminding him of what he is. 

 

Face empty of any feeling or expression, he walked toward a nearby abandoned building to hide away.

 

Maybe he wasn't right for Hank. 

 

Maybe he wasn't right. 

  
  


\---

 

Hank eventually got himself up off the floor after a few hours had passed. Body aching worse than before, but he swallowed it down. He tried calling Connor, of course, with no hint of response. Leaving messages, contacting Jericho to keep an eye out for him. The worry was infuriating, worse than when he saw him off to go find Jericho.

 

That felt like ages ago with how different everything was. How different  _ he _ was. Maybe things still weren’t amazing, but at least he wasn’t actively trying to kill himself. It was terrifying and wonderful how much of a difference Connor had made in his life. 

 

His phone buzzed, and he checked it rather quickly only to be let down that it wasn’t Connor.

 

 **Josh:** _No one here has seen him, and he won’t reply to our calls. We will keep an eye out for him._

 

After that, he decided to pull out some bigger guns. He messaged Chris at the precinct, since he knew he was on duty, as well as Nines. 

  
  


**Nines:** _ I will scan city surveillance footage, but with no idea of where he might be, it may take some time. _

 

 **Hank:** _I appreciate it. Let me know as soon as you find him, all right?_

 

**Nines:** _ If the two of you have had an altercation, it might be best if someone else approaches him first. _

 

**Hank:** _ No. _

 

**Hank:** _ It’s my fuck-up, I need to apologize.  _

  
  


With no further messages after that, Hank decided that he would have to go out and look himself. Looks like Connor got what he wanted after all: getting Hank out of the house. He filled Sumo’s food bowl, just in case he would be out for a long time, and grabbed his coat on his way out the door.

 

His search started in the usual places: Chicken Feed, the bench by the bridge, the dog shelter where Connor volunteered every once in a while. Nothing. The day dragged on as he drove around, the afternoon settling into dusk before his phone stirred once more. He tapped on the little green icon to answer it.

 

“Nines? Did you find him?”

 

“Lieutenant, where are you currently? Are you home?” The android’s voice sounded strange, almost like he was nervous.

 

Hank pulled over for a moment, “Nah, I’m across town, up in Warren.”

 

Nines hummed, “You’re closer than I am, then. I’m sending you some coordinates, an abandoned warehouse…”

 

“You found him?” Hank shifted the gear shift as he pulled open directions to the address.

 

“A camera spotted him hours ago entering a building, but he has not left it. Chris and myself are on our way, as well.”

 

Hank knew it was gross misuse, but he turned on the flashing lights on his dashboard and sped as quickly as he could East. “Copy that. Thank you-” he ended the call, focusing on driving and pleading silently to any god that was listening.

 

He arrived at the warehouse, parking near the first door he could find and throwing it open. “Connor?!” He called out, yelling so loudly it echoed in the dusty air. One the verge of crying, he ran up the stairs, screaming Connor’s name as much as his throat would allow him. He made it up to the roof, glancing around in the fading light, until a figure caught his eye. “Shit… Connor?”

 

His partner, his best friend, his dearest one...was standing on the edge of the roof. Connor stood precariously, looking down at the concrete below, stark still and silent.

 

“Connor, please…  _ please _ get away from there,” his voice faltered as he tried to hold back the floodgates in his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

 

The android didn’t reply, didn’t move. Hank took a few steps toward him.

 

“I was a fucking shitbag earlier. I know better than to treat you like that… and I know your angry with me, but  _ please _ get away from the ledge.”

 

He startled as Connor turned his head, “If I fall, at just the right angle at this height, it would all be over. I can find peace, and leave you alone.”

 

Hank’s lips trembled, inching closer and closer. “No… no  _ please _ don’t do that, Connor. I’ll leave you alone for as long as you want, until I  _ die _ if need be… but I couldn’t-” Hank could barely breath, gasping like a fish to finish his thought, standing only two feet away now. “If you jump, I’d jump after you; headfirst.”

 

“Go home, Hank.” Connor said, returned his gaze to the skyline. “Please, just go home.”

 

The silver-haired man shook his head, resigning to handling the situation with force. “C’mon,” he stepped a foot up on the ledge with a hand on Connor’s arm, nudging him away. Connor resisted stubbornly, causing Hank to lose his footing and trip over the side.

 

The world froze for Connor, and his chest that was numb with sadness suddenly tightened when he saw the fear in Hank’s eyes as he fell backwards. Instinctually, he reached out his hand to pull Hank back up, but his reconstruction showed that it would be unsuccessful. He had to save Hank, no matter the cost.

 

Connor took a nosedive after Hank, feeling his battery drain a little faster as he willed time to go slower and allow him the precision needed to protect Hank’s life. He clung to Hank before spinning them around so he would hit the ground first, his hand at the base of Hank’s head to protect it upon impact.

 

He knew Hank was protesting, the world still slow as he took every second he could to hold Hank for the last time. The impact had a 98% chance of destroying him permanently, and it was a risk he would always, always be willing to take for the man who saved his life.

 

And in a flash, there was nothing.

 

\----

  
  


Hank woke up in the hospital.

 

Everything ached, but somehow he wasn’t dead.

 

Not somehow… someone.   
  
Connor jumped after him… but… 

 

“Anderson? You awake?” Reed’s voice cut through the static of his thoughts.

 

Hank winced as he tried to shrug, “fuck… I don’t even know.” He opened his eyes, immediately filled with regret as the bright, shitty hospital lights nearly blinded him. His stomach was churning, “how long have I been fucking unconcious?”

 

He saw Gavin frown, gaze turned away. That probably wasn’t a good sign.

 

“A few days… you woke up a few times but you were so out of it. I guess you don’t remember then…” Gavin scratched at his five-o-clock shadow, “fuckin’ scared the shit out of us.”

 

Hank felt himself grow cold as he willed the next words out of his mouth. “A-and Connor?”

 

“I’ll… be right back…” Gavin said, almost in a whisper, as he left the room with hands stuffed in his pockets.

 

Unable to call back out to him, Hank squeezed his eyes tightly shut in agony.  _ Fuck… _ he thought loudly in his head. Reed probably didn’t want to be the one to tell him that Connor was gone. That Connor was beyond repair and he was never going to-

 

There was the sound of shoes squeaking, uneven steps running down the hallway and getting closer, until the door swung open. “Ha-ank?” 

 

He opened his eyes, almost not believing them as Connor let the door close behind him as he approached Hank in his bed. All but throwing himself over, Connor collapsed into Hank’s lap where his shoulders shook hard and loud, pained sobs tore from his throat.

 

“I’m s-so s-sorry,” he hiccuped, clinging bunches of hospital sheets in his fists. 

 

Hank raised his hand carefully to Connor’s head, guiding his fingers through the soft curls. “Hey… hey it’s okay. What the fuck do you have to be sorry for?”

 

Connor lifted his head just a little, but could hardly look at Hank’s face for more than a few seconds at a time. “I was s-so stupid… I was emotional and shouldn’t have done that to you, after everything you’ve-” He closed a hand over his mouth, suppressing a choked sound of agony.

 

The android’s face was lifted up as Hank brought his hand under the cleft chin, forcing those big, brown eyes to look at him. “I shouldn’t have fuckin’ yelled at you, or tell you to leave like that. You’re just trying to help, and I…” Hank could feel his own tears welling up. “I really screwed things up, Connor. I understand if you can’t forgive me, but I-”

 

He was cut off immediately by a pair of lips warming his mouth, feeling the remnants of Connor’s tears on his cheek as their faces pressed close together.   
  
“Of course I forgive you, you idiot.”


	10. Shaken Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from the lovely Swood3133, who I have been beta-reading for lately! (She's an absolute dear and I highly recommend her work!)
> 
>  
> 
> TAGS FOR: hurt/comfort, robot seizures, angst with a happy ending!

Connor stayed late at the precinct, shuffling through paperwork and transcribing notes from one of their meetings to put into a report. He was worn out as it was, having been away since early in the morning to make Hank breakfast before work. It was part of his routine, and he loved the satisfaction of making sure his partner was well-fed before they left for work. On days where they rushed out the door, and Hank hadn’t eaten, he was always 48% more irritable.

 

Maybe it was silly for an android to gain pleasure from such a thing like taking care of his human, but he adored Hank fiercely.

 

He was on his last few pages of paperwork, when he started feeling… strange. There was the uncomfortable weightlessness like he was low on Thirium, but there was something else going on that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. It grew worse, a few errors messages invading his sight, before a particularly obtrusive one startled him and his system completely fritzed out.

  
  


**Launch system reboot**

 

**Ļ̸͓̳̅̀͜͠aun̶̢̛̽̂͌̀͗͌͝͝c̵͓͓͔̱̩̣͙̅̏̉̃̏̄͋͝͠h ̷̨͔͇̪͚̤͗̇̉͒͜f̵̼̘͉͎̘̩̰͔̉̽͜a̶͔̲͓̯͖͂̓̇̋͛̾͝͠i̴͇̻͑́́led̷͙̟͎̦̻̿**

 

**A̷t̵t̸e̴m̴p̴t̶i̸n̵g̶ ̵r̵e̶c̵a̵l̷i̴b̸r̶a̷t̶i̵o̷n̵**

 

**Ẽ̸͜r̸̛͎͔͙̐͆R̴̤̺͐͂̈õ̵̩r̴̡̪͇̤̽̔̅͘e̷͓̞̪R̴̪̱͍̊̾̐r̴̤͎̭̀o̷̰̅r̴̥̽͆̅̈́**

 

**Š̸͇y̸͍̾s̶͐͜t̴̙̚em ̷̍ͅr̸͉̅e̵̻͊c̵̣a̷̧̅librati̴̞̓o̸̧̿n̵̫ ̴͇͘ṛ̵̋e̵͚̅q̶̯̑u̵͚͊ĩ̷̥ŗ̴͒e̴͉͝d̴̝̎**

 

.

.

.

.

 

“-or? Connor, you ok?” 

  
  


**Reboot complete**

 

**Energy level: 34%**

 

**Dermal abrasions detected; auto-heal initiated**

  
  


“Hey, Connor, can you hear me?”

 

The android took a long breath in as he opened his eyes, seeing Chris kneeling beside him. He felt… he felt  _ terrible _ . He opened his mouth to speak, only to realize he was panting hard as his systems attempted to cool down.

 

“W-wha-t-t-t h-happe-” He tried speaking between breaths, only to stop himself as the room seemed to spin around him.

 

Officer Miller frowned, “Hey, just take a minute… you fell out of your seat, and started shaking weirdly. I wasn’t really sure what to do… how do you feel? Should I call Hank?”

 

“N-nnn-” Connor forced himself to sit up. “No, that’s all right.” He looked around a little nervously, rubbing his hands and arms to find the sensitive spots where his self-healing programs were already working to alleviate the damage. “I was going to take an auto-taxi home, anyway. I’ll be fine.” 

 

He was helped up and back into his chair, thanking Chris quietly and returning his attention to the last remaining files. Sighing, he clicked off the monitor and requested his ride home. It could get done tomorrow; and all he wanted now was to go home, and get lost in Hank’s big arms as they fell asleep together for the night.

 

The whole ride in the taxi, he went through his system logs, trying to figure out what it was that caused the malfunction. There didn’t seem to be any particular cause, unless it was disrupted and deleted from the history during…. Whatever it was that happened. 

 

The voice announced that he had reached his destination, and he stepped out tiredly. Inside the cozy house before him, he heard the TV blaring with tonight’s basketball game, and Connor smiled a little in relief that he had made it home. When he opened the front door, he heard the jingling of Sumo’s collar and tags as the enormous dog trotted over to him, tail wagging and nuzzling his face into Connor for affection. 

 

“Hey, welcome home,” Hank said as he pulled himself up from the couch with a weighted exhale in effort. Connor couldn’t help but finally smile as Hank pulled him in for a hug, resting into the embrace contentedly.

 

“Hi Hank,” Connor replied softly, burying his face further into the burly shoulder. “Did you have dinner?”

 

“Yeah, I had that leftover mac ‘n cheese you made me the other night.”

 

Connor smiled as he remembered; the noodles were made with veggies, but Hank didn’t need to know that if he didn’t already. “Good. Are you ready for bed?” 

 

“Fuck yeah I am,” Hank gave Connor’s ass a squeeze and a pat before turning around and shutting off the television. The beast of a dog hopped up onto the couch into his second favorite sleeping spot, curling around the throw blanket that smelled like his owner. 

 

The two partners escaped into the bedroom, each changing into their respective, fresh nightwear. Connor meticulously undid his suit, similar to his old uniform but lacking in LED lights and his model information, hanging it up for the following work day. In its place he selected one of Hank’s old t-shirts from a 5K run he participated in long before he was married. Hank, on the other hand, had already removed his pants when he got home. He switched into a clean pair of boxers, and a sleeveless shirt that Connor gave him for Christmas. On it, was the logo for ‘Arizona’, the canned tea company; he appreciated the joke immensely.

 

They settled under the sheets, Hank climbing in first so he could wrap his arms around Connor and hold him closely. There was something safe and warm in the feeling, especially when Connor would hold him in return, his lean arms around Hank's belly.

 

But… Hank could tell something was off. He noticed the forlorn, far-off look in Connor’s eyes tonight, but didn’t want to push him to talk. With gentle, even strokes, he rubbed the edge of his thumb along Connor’s cheek.

 

“Hey Hank?” Connor finally spoke, soft and a little fearful.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Connor shifted himself to the side so he was face to face with his love. “While I was at the precinct, before leaving for the evening, something happened. I’m not quite sure what.”   
  


Bringing his arms from behind Connor’s shoulders, Hank cupped the android’s sweet face with both of his hands. “What is it, baby?”

 

“I had an unusual system malfunction. I had been feeling strange, and woke up on the floor from a full system reboot.” 

 

“Oh God… oh Con-” Hank pulled him in closely again.

 

“I don’t know- I don’t know what caused it, which I think is the worst part.” Connor gave a small, nervous laugh, even though deep down he knew it terrified him.

 

He received loving, generous kisses all over his face and hands; Hank carressing and holding him like he was the most precious thing in the universe. “You said you were feeling weird, right? Before it happened? If you feel like that again, you tell me the  _ moment _ it starts. All right?” 

 

Connor nodded, feeling a little helpless but happy that Hank was so concerned, so invested in him. He felt loved and cared for, feelings he was never meant to have and yet identifies them for exactly what they are. “I will, Hank. I promise that I will.”

 

No more words are spoken, but the soft, intimate touches between them continue as they drift to sleep. The house is quiet, serene, like something in a story book.

  
  
  


**7am - Wake Up**

 

**Forecast: Sunny, 58’F, chance of scattered showers in the evening**

 

**Task List**

 

**\- Sumo**

**\- Feed**

**\- Walk**

 

**\- Hank**

**\- Make breakfast**

**\- Wake up at 7:30am**

 

**Arrive at the precinct for 8:30am for meeting**

 

**Urgent Messages: None**

 

**Non-urgent messages:**

**\- Invitation from Jericho for visit**

**\- Mortgage payment, utilities due within 72 hours**

  
  


Sitting up, Connor looked out the window at the first glimpse of daylight. It hid behind the blinds, peaking through just enough that the floor shares in its sunny, warm hue.

 

He rose from bed, tugging on a pair of sweatpants and goes out into the living room to take Sumo on a short walk. He’s nervous, even with no immediate reason to be, that he’ll have another incident while he is out of the house. Sumo is smart enough to sit by him and watch over him if it happened.

 

Thankfully, the walk stays within his usual routine. He gives Sumo a few extra belly rubs to reward him for being such a good boy during their walk, filling his food and water bowls, just in time to put a bagel in the toaster for Hank.

 

He crept back into the bedroom, kneeling on the edge of the bed and carefully lifting himself over Hank to straddle his lap. The man doesn’t stir very much, at first, until Connor leans down and places a kiss on the very tip of his nose. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he whispered, finally earning a groan as Hank wrinkled his nose and started to blink the sleepiness from his eyes.

 

“Mmmmmph… mornin’...” Hank crashed his lips into Connor, tickling the android’s face with his beard as they both smiled brightly and locked their lips for a few moments more. 

 

It gets deeper, sensual and fierce, until Connor tries to pull away, and fails when Hank holds him by the hair. “Han-mmmm… Hank, we need to - mmmm - get ready for work.”   
  
“Awwww… fuck work,” Hank takes Connor by the hips, swinging him down into the sheets. “You sure we can’t just stay home?” 

 

Connor shook his head, pretending to be serious as he coyly said, “Absolutely. Because if we stayed home, I would fuck you through to next week.” He observed Hank's heart rate spike slightly, and smiled as he started to get up. “Besides, your bagel will get cold.”

 

A sleepy pout crossed over Hank's lips, but he just yawned and started to drag himself out from under from the covers. “Yeah, yeah… you win. But only because you're so damn cute.” 

 

Finally standing, hand steadied against the dresser, Hark received one more sweet kiss on the lips as Connor murmured “Thank you.”

 

He finished preparing breakfast; spreading schmear over the bagel, coffee poured into a mug and orange juice into a small glass. When Hank emerged dressed, they exchanged soft, innocent smiles as Hank ate. Before either of them knew it, they were back at work. 

 

It was slated to be a relatively easy day; an interrogation scheduled for later in the morning, and possibly some hands on with if they managed a lead from the interview. Nothing they hadn't done before, and they settled into the day easily by reviewing case files in preparation. 

 

Much to Connor’s joint relief and confusion, the work day passed without any interruptions, and they were told to go home right at 6pm. They were still on call if anything came up, but at least they could relax comfortably otherwise. Connor was already planning what to make Hank for dinner as they rode in the car. 

 

“Is there anything you would be opposed to? For dinner, I mean…”

 

“What, eating you out doesn't count?” Hank replied, winking to his partner 

 

Connor felt his face grow warm, “That's not what I… I mean I wouldn't be opposed, but-”

 

Smiling, the driver reached over, the car stopped at a red light, to mess with his passenger’s hair lovingly. “Just no salad, and I'm good. Kinda in the mood for those fake mashed potatoes you make.”

 

Connor raised an eyebrow, “You mean the cauliflower?” 

 

“Is that what that shit is? Either way it's fucking delicious.” 

 

The light changed, and they continued home. Connor felt a little off, mostly from the lingering worry, but he brushed it off as just being worn out from the long day. When they got in, he immediately set to making dinner for Hank, who took Sumo for a quick walk. 

 

Connor had come to terms with the fact that domestic life was unusual for him, given his initial purpose when he was built. There were times when he would be working in a new recipe, or folding freshly dried laundry, where he would just stop to observe everything about the task ahead. He felt peaceful doing these things, because he truly wanted to. While police work came so naturally to him, these seemingly mundane chores were simulating, comforting. 

 

The bag of cauliflower was emptied into a bowl, and was slid into the microwave to thaw enough before getting put through the food processor. While waiting, he took the tray of pork chops out to clean the white, fatty edges before pan-frying them in a honey mustard marinade. It was one of Hank’s new favorites, and his thirium pump thudded in delight in anticipation for Hank's reaction. 

 

Once dinner was nearly done, Hank returned, panting nearly as hard as Sumo.

 

“Good walk? Or was it a St. Bernard-trot?”

 

Hank took a few breaths before replying, “He saw a particularly fast rabbit… shit, it's been years since I saw him chase after something like that.” 

 

After dinner, they found themselves curled up together on the couch. There was a football game on; they weren’t rooting for either of the two teams but it was still nice to have on.

 

Around half-time, Hank got up to use the bathroom, giving the android a kiss on the head as he rushed across the small house. Connor took the moment to sit up and stretch a little, rising from the loveseat to let Sumo outside to relieve himself as well. With the quiet moment, he got a headstart on the dishes that needed to be cleaned from dinner.

 

Ẽ̸͜  r̸̛͎͔͙̐͆  R̴̤̺͐͂̈ õ̵̩  r̴̡̪͇̤̽̔̅͘ 

 

His hands dropped the dishes into the sink, and he put his palm to his forehead. The sensation of dizziness was still so strange and new, but Connor was definitely sure he didn’t enjoy it. 

 

Stepping away from the sink, he could feel himself shudder, turning away and stepping unsuredly across the kitchen floor. 

 

“H-hank?” His voice came out breathy, his ventilation components working hard to keep him cool as his body felt like it was suddenly shutting down. He didn’t even make it around the corner to the hallway before seeing the ground approach him instantaneously.

 

\--

 

While washing his hands, Hank thought he heard Connor call for him, and a few moments later there was a loud  _ thud _ from the other room.   
  
“Con, you all right?” He asked, taking the hand towel with him to dry his hands as he left the bathroom to see what had happened. “Jesus Christ!”

 

The android was on the ground, limbs twitching and eyelids fluttering wildly. Hank was frozen where he stood, panicked and no clue what to do, until Connor’s back started to arch up off the ground and a strained groan came from him. Dropping to his knees, Hank did the only thing he could think to do: protect Connor’s head from bashing into the floor. 

 

“Baby, can you hear me?” He asked quietly; Sumo’s worried barks from outside doing nothing to ease his concern. “If you can… know that I got you, okay? I’m right here.”

 

The couple of minutes that the quaking lasted were long and torturous as Hank watched over Connor. When the movements slowed down, he reached out to gently caress Connor’s cheek, warm and soft and dusted with blue under his thumb.

 

Connor’s body starting making little sounds as he rebooted, including a pained sigh. His eyes opened, lost and glassy, focusing on seemingly nothing before finding Hank’s face above him.

 

“Mmmm… H-ha-” 

 

Hank shushed him, restraining him from trying to get up. “Slow down, honey… don’t push yourself.” Grimacing, Connor let his eyes close, turning his face in towards Hank's big hand in search of comfort. “Why don't I bring you to the couch?”

 

Giving a little nod, the android allowed himself to be picked up. It was barely even ten feet, but guilt still struck his conscience when Hank's bones cracked and popped, and his little groan in effort as he set Connor down. The man sat on the edge of the couch by Connor's legs, shutting off the television. 

 

Connor wanted to protest, to insist that Hank should continue to enjoy his evening while he tried to sort out the issue. But he didn't get much further than that, his processing limited as his systems were still working to recover. So lost in the fuzz, he almost missed Hank speaking softly to him.

 

“Can I get you anything?”

 

Just as Connor was about to speak, a loud barking came from the back door, and his partner jumped up to let Sumo back inside. Hank didn't even stop the beast as he immediately trotted over to the couch, laying himself on top of Connor.

 

“You okay with him laying there?” Hank asked, concern in his voice but he was smirking,  pleasantly pleased at the dog's natural protective instincts. 

 

“He's fine,” Connor smiled as well, if weakly. His hand came up to stroke the dense fur, focusing on the heft of the animal and how it weighed him down, grounding him. “He has put on two pounds in the last month, however.”

 

Snorting, Hank sat in the armchair as he gave Sumo's rump a sturdy pat. “Nothing gets past him, huh bud?” Instead of a reply, the dog adjusted himself over Connor's body, rolling in toward the back of the couch so his belly was exposed. 

 

Connor obliged, moving fairly slow and stilted, but his face relaxed as full function gradually returned. 

 

“So… want to go get that checked out tomorrow?” Hank asked, hands folded between his knees as he bent over them. “I know you don't like that shit, but I don't want to put it off or wait for things to get worse.”

 

“I know…” the android murmured, messaging Markus immediately.

 

\----

 

“It's… going to take a while to isolate the glitch.”

 

“W-what?” Connor gripped Hank’s hand where they sat on the couch. 

 

Nines had come over as well to lend his assistance, but nodded in agreement. “It is hard to say ‘why’ at this point, but the malfunction seems to be coming from deep in your operating software, but, it may also be a physical problem. A wire that needs to be replaced, something loose where your sensitivity receptors gather.”

 

“So I just need to… live like this? In constant fear that it could happen at any time?” Connor asked, his voice heavy with worry.

 

Hank rubbed his hand where it rested on his lap, “How will you know if its a physical thing and not something else?”

 

“Our plan is to go through Connor's software as thoroughly as possible, and if we can’t find the cause we may need to bring him in for an internal analysis,” Markus explained.

 

Frowning the lieutenant rubbed his forehead with his free hand, “So… surgery?”

 

The deviant leader nodded, “Regretfully, yes. It may be best if Connor takes a leave from wor-”

 

“No.” Connor insisted firmly. 

 

“Connor…” Nines warned.

 

But the prototype model shook his head, “I can't sit around all say worrying if it will happen again when I could be contributing to the force. I spent all day absolutely fine; if it tends to only happen in the evenings, then I could still perform my duties with no issue.”

 

“But what if it gets  _ worse _ ,” Nines said sharply. “Just because the first two episodes have been in late afternoon, it does not mean it could not happen any other time. You would no longer be an asset, you would be liability.”

 

Looking on in concern, Hank could see his partner grow flustered with frustrated in a way he hadn't seen before. 

 

The android stood, “I refuse to s-sit around and wait for this to go away. Crime won’t take a sabbatical just because I'm mal-malfunctioning, and the precinct is overloaded as it is.” Hank gently tried to coax him back onto the couch, to no avail. “Y-You have no idea what it's like! I'm scared; scared because there is no clear answer and I don’t want to-” 

 

In a flash, Nines lunged toward his predecessor, interfacing with his hand on Connor’s arm. “You need to calm down, Eights.”

 

Irritated, Connor shrugged himself away, storming into the bedroom and slamming the door. 

 

With a sigh, Hank stood as his bones popped in effort. “Let me talk to him. I think we could find a compromise to allow him to work half days, I'll ask Jeff about it in the morning. 

 

“That isn’t a bad idea…” Markus agreed. He took his carefully laid coat from behind his seat, putting it on and nodding to the RK900 to take their leave. “We will keep working. I know Connor is displeased with these circumstances, but the surgery would be fairly invasive, and it would be best if we can avoid it.”

 

“Yeah,” Hank nodded, walking them to the door. “He won’t say it, but he appreciates the help. It's a little overwhelming, ya know?”

 

“Indeed. The situation appears to bes making him… irritable.” Nines huffed, stepping outside and going straight to the auto-taxi.

 

Markus shook his head, “I'm sorry we can't do more, Hank. I have given him a monitoring device so we can obtain more detailed system reports if he has another episode. However, it may keep him conscious during it, so just keep a close eye on him.” He stepped off the porch, smiling a little warmly, “He trusts you, Lieutenant. We will need your help with this.”

 

“Yeah… yeah, I know.” Hank agreed, leaving against the doorframe with his arms crossed. He took in a deep breath, “Just.. please find whatever it is. Connor doesn't deserve this.”

 

“I know… we will do our best.”

 

Hank waved them off, closing the front door and immediately making his way to the bedroom. He gave a small knock before entering, “Oh, sweetheart…”

 

His android laid on his side, clutching a pillow in his arms with his face buried into its fluff. Climbing up, Hank shifted himself right up against Connor's body to spoon him warmly. After a moment, the brunet abandoned the pillow, and turned to snuggle up into Hank's chest. “Can I still go into work tomorrow?”

 

Fingers stroked the brown locks, pulling him in closer. “Yeah, honey… we'll have a meeting with Fowler, see what we can do. You might be stuck to desk duty, but we can figure this out.”

 

They let silence hang between them, both exhausted and drifting closer to sleep. 

 

Connor’s voice whispered just before Hank was out for the night. “I'm scared… I'm scared they can't fix it.”

 

\----

 

The meeting with the Captain went as well as could be expected, and Hank's guess was correct. Connor would only be called to a scene if absolutely necessary, and both of them were granted temporary, shorter hours until the cause could be determined. There was the promise of another discussion once they knew how… or if… it could be treated.

 

Connor was thankful, lighting up with a smile for the first time Hank had seen since the whole ordeal started. 

 

It was wishful thinking that they would be able to figure out what the issue was so soon, but another couple of days went by with no updates, and no episodes.

 

On the third work day since their meeting with Markus, it happened again.

 

Connor was deeply focused on a case, combing through suspects, when he went a little stiff. He closed his eyes, breathing through the onslaught of unidentifiable pressure, but it felt like he was climbing up a roller coaster and a steep drop awaited for him at any second.

 

“Hank,” he whispered. His partner noticed the fear in his face, abandoning his work to come around the desk and get Connor somewhere more private. No one seemed to take notice, thankfully, and he half-dragged his partner to hallway of the archive room when the deviant went limp in his grip.

 

Just as Markus had warned, Connor was awake and aware as his body thrashed on the floor. It was hard not to try to tense up and fight it, which would make it worse. Instead, he just started whimpering as he looked up into Hank's eyes from where his head was steadied on the man's lap. 

 

All Hank wanted to do was reach down and hold Connor’s hand, try to assure him that it would be okay. But his arms slammed against the floor, and it seemed a little more violent than before; Hank thought he could hear plastic cracking and splintering between Connor’s hoarse, panicked breaths. 

 

A moment later, the door beeped as Nines came in, initially startled by what he saw. Once the initial shock had passed he approached at a safe distance and knelt down on the floor. “Can you hear me, Connor?”

 

The android’s face twisted in pain as he tried to reply, only a loud cry coming out of him. His body refused to stop moving, and as the seconds ticked on, Hank started to panic. “Last time it stopped by now, what’s going on?”

 

“I’m… not sure.” Nines slid on his knees to get a little closer, just as Connor let out loud sob and his head jerked violently. “Connor, can you manually activate a system shutdown? Or stasis?”

 

“Nnnng... t-t-tr-r-y-y-ying-g-g-” His eyes rolled back, and the movements stopped suddenly as his synthetic skin and hair disappeared. 

 

Open-mouthed in surprise, Hank reached a hand down Connor’s chest to his pump, making sure for himself that his partner was still breathing. 

 

_ Thud… thud… thud… _

 

It was slow, but it was there; he sighed in relief. “Fuckin’ Christ…” Hank started to lift Connor up, cradling his upper body to his chest. It was so odd, yet so beautiful to see him like this. The android was very shy and uncomfortable with his robotic appearance beneath the aesthetic façade that CyberLife gave him. He had hardly let Hank see him like that, and it made his eyes sting with the threat of tears to be able to study the white and grey body.

 

“Lieutenant?”

 

Snapping out of his daze, he saw his partner’s counterpart looking at him intently. “Connor has sustained some minor damage, perhaps we should relocate him? Would you like to drive him to Jericho? Or your home? Markus has already been alerted.”

 

Hank nodded, carefully hoisting himself up with Nines helping to hold up Connor. “Home. He’d hate waking up in one of those facilities.”

 

“Very well,” the android said; the two of them all but dragging the limp android to the back entrance. 

 

“Hey, where the fuck are you going?” Gavin approached them on their way out, arms crossed. “Nines, you’re my fuckin’ partner, you can’t just  _ leave _ .”

 

“My apologies, Detective. I am assisting Lieutenant Anderson to get his partner to his car, and then I will return to finish our reports that you have neglected to file.”

 

Sneering, Gavin groaned in discontent. “Fine, but you owe me.”

 

“Very well. I will see you at home this evening, please prepare yourself for intercourse and bring a pair of handcuffs home with you. Will that suffice?” Nines asked completely straight-faced, while his partner’s grew bright red.

  
  


“Fuckin’... fuck,” Reed stormed off, allowing Hank and Nines to hurry out to the old, beat up car in the precinct parking lot.

 

By the time they got to 115 Michigan Drive, a few members of Jericho were already waiting for them at the doorstep, and helped get Connor inside. Once he was placed upright on the couch, Josh sat beside him and initiated an interface. The others huddled around, waiting patiently with concerned looks.

 

And Hank… Hank was in the bedroom.

 

Everything about the situation terrified him, as much as he tried to keep calm in front of Connor and the rest of them. But something about seeing him awake and in so much  _ pain _ like that… it was a little too overwhelming for him. Sumo was curled up beside him on the edge of the bed, his uncharacteristically squeaky whines that sounded nothing like his low, breathy barks, was a sound that made the man’s heart ache just a little bit more. 

 

They had come up with a temporary patch for Connor, but, the caveat was that it would likely need to be updated periodically to avoid any more outbursts. Not only that, but they weren’t even sure if it would work. 

 

It was an imperfect solution in every way imaginable, and all Hank couldn’t do a single thing to help.

 

His face stung as he held away tears, the door knocking to reveal a meek, blond android waving for him to follow him back out to the living room.

 

Bits and pieces of what was explained actually made it through the fog of his heart-wrenching anxiety about the whole thing: they couldn’t isolate the cause, so the patch was a counter-measure that would kick in if an episode was imminent. The monitor was removed so they could analyze the report more closely, but Hank felt uneasy watching the room full of androids go round-robin on what they each thought was best for Connor.

 

“Let’s wait, and see how the patch does.” 

 

“No, we should do a internal, physical examination  _ now, _ before it gets worse! The patch may not do shit!”   
  
“We have no proof that it’s a hardware issue, North.”   
  
“Then how long is he going to need the software patches? Until he’s falling apart at the seams from all the-”

  
  
“ **LEAVE.** ”

 

The room fell silent, all eyes on Connor, who until that point had been listening patiently.

 

“But Conno-”

 

“NO!” He stood up, leaning unbalanced as he did so, but held a hand out to stop anyone from trying to help. “It’s my decision, and I want time to think about this.”

 

Josh frowned, his voice as calm as he could make it. “We’re sorry, Connor. We just want to help.”

 

With a long sigh, Connor’s shoulders hunched as his gaze fell to the floor. “I know… I know you are. I appreciate it, but-” His voice tapered off with crackling static, and his hand flew to his mouth to his surprise, and a hesitating silence filled the room.

 

That was enough for Hank’s instinctual concern to kick in. “All right, let’s call it a night.” He said, gesturing to the door. “We’re off tomorrow, so we’ll stop by either tomorrow afternoon or the following morning to discuss this further.” All of the androids, even Nines, looked stunned at the lieutenant. 

 

“I don’t know  _ shit _ about any of this stuff,” he said, voice faltering but loud. “Fuck, I don’t even know that much about human medical shit. But my boyfriend is fucking  _ exhausted _ and  _ none of you are doing anything to help with that! _ ” Tone climbing, he found himself nearly yelling at a room full of these perfect beings, who right now, couldn’t even see how they were hurting their friend. “Now, with all due respect, I want every android who doesn’t live at this house to  _ leave. Now. _ ”

 

The slowly filed out of the room, Connor starkly still near the couch, not returning their soft “good-byes” as they left. Hank closed the door behind the last of them, flicking the deadbolt and holding himself up against it for a moment. He knew he wasn’t a particularly tactful person in the worst of times, but there was only so much bullshit he was willing to put up with.

 

A small voice from the living room pulled him from his thoughts, “Thank you.”

 

Shakily, he walked over to the trembling android, wrapping him tightly into his arms and holding him like he would never let go. “Your friends probably think I’m a jerk, but-”

 

“No,” Connor interrupted, tilting his face to look intently at Hank. “It was a lot, th-they… while deviants can emulate human emotions, we aren’t always adept at dealing with it amongst ourselves.”

 

“Pfft, you can say that again,” Hank chuckled, slipping his fingers deep into the silky, brown locks. “I don’t care what we’ve gotta do, ya know. Whatever you want, I’m going to support you, ok?”

 

Connor slumped against Hank’s chest, rubbing his cheeks into the soft warmth of his shirt, “I know… thank you.”   
  
“If that kind of shit ever happens again, you get me, and I beat the shit out of anyone who is putting pressure on you to-”

 

Smiling, his handsome android leaned up and kissed him. “That seems a little extreme, but I appreciate it all the same.” He hummed thoughtfully, “It’s nice to have such a protective boyfriend.”

  
Hank sank down the the floor, Connor’s hands in his, and he watched with devilish satisfaction when those brown eyes grew wide.   


  
“Whattya say about a protective husband?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come say hi on Twitter: @canticumexvacui
> 
>  
> 
> My writing stamina has been very low recently, & a lot of my attention has been toward my BigBang fic. BUT, be on the lookout for some podfics in the coming future! 
> 
> Cheers,  
> LadyAmalthea


	11. Too much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank helping out Connor with an anxiety attack on a hard day.
> 
> Wrote this for a writing prompt in a discord server I run! Just a short little thing

It was a typical day at the precinct…

 

But then, why did Connor feel so different?

 

It wasn't a particularly bad case, although most of their cases dealt with the brutal murders of androids in Detroit. Each one was a little horrifying, a little high-tension, but they all ended fine.

 

Connor realized, there in the interrogation room, it was the timing.

 

He was looking through the folder of evidence on the table, willing his hand to stop shaking. With a glance sideways, he saw the dark window and adjusted how he was sitting. There was an audience, there always was for these things, but that didn't make him feel much better.

 

"Can you state your name for the record, please?"

 

That morning had been awful. He had difficulty staying in stasis the night before, a new android law was getting voted on in Congress today, and his relationship with Hank was steadily morphing into something more. 

 

It terrified him. 

 

He didn't know what he was doing when Hank would lean closer, or when his eyes would linger on Connor longer than before. 

 

He asked more questions of the suspect, but his main processor was hard at work trying to calculate the chances that Hank wanted to be intimate. 

 

Which, of course, backfired.

 

"Can you tell me, uhhh…" 

 

Suddenly, he couldn't quite remember what the suspect had said just before. Or, what he had asked. He went back and listened to the recording in his head, and continued despite the flustered ache in his chest. 

 

"Can you tell me where you got that equipment? There was no indication of their date or location of manufacture."

 

The suspect rolled his eyes, "The fuck does that have to do with anything?"

 

Connor frowned, "It is relevant to our investigation at-large; others may be using the same weapons. Please, I need you to answer the question."

 

"What, not good enough to figure it out on your own?"

 

He was doing this on purpose, and Connor knew it. He was trying to avoid the question, whether he was just trying to protect a colleague or just to be difficult. 

 

"I will not ask you again, Mr. Alexander… where did you get the weapons?"

 

The man scoffed, "Fuck if I know, I didn't handle that shit."

 

As Connor prepared a new question, he heard Hank's voice come through a signal from the observation room. " _ You sure you wanna keep going with this guy? I think he's a dead end, we should just out him back in his cell _ ."

 

He didn't sound disappointed, but Connor felt he could guess as much. 

 

_ "Just one more question, I'll be done soon." _

 

The connection closed, and he opened his mouth to ask something else.

 

"Ugh, you done wasting your time?" 

 

Connor recoiled a little, flicking his eyes to the files. He felt hot and embarrassed, like he was holding his breath and just couldn't let it out.

 

"No, that's all." 

 

He stood abruptly, shoving the documents into the folder and stepping out of the room. He was supposed to check in with Hank and Chen next door, but went straight for the restroom. Just for a minute, just to catch his breath.

 

The feeling didn't get better as he closed the door, striding past the urinals to a stall where he tossed the folder the floor and leaned against the wall. 

 

His hands were still shaking, and only made him more upset. He couldn't figure out Hank, or the case, or even himself. Why was is all so  _ difficult _ ?

 

He threw his fist into the concrete wall, hard enough that the playing on his knuckles cracked painfully. Without thinking, he shook it out a little, and a few bits clinked as the hit the floor. And then he did too.

 

Sinking to the floor, he felt that terrible, aching rush through his chest to his face as gears leaked from his eyes. There was too much running through him, emotions overtaxing his system.

 

The door opened, and his hitched breath was muffled from his face being buried behind his knees.

 

"Connor, you in here?" 

 

It was Hank, because of course it would be. Connor left without following up, despite protocol, and his superior would know something was wrong. 

 

Hank sighed, stepped closer to the locked stall. "Con? You in there?"

 

Instead of a proper reply, Connor hummed in acknowledgement, but did move to open the door. 

 

"That asshole is all set, I know it didn't go his you wanted but..." he voice fell to a more gentle tone. "Connor?"

 

"I-I can't… I just need a…" he held a hand over his pump, thudding harshly and hot. His breaths were stuttered, and he couldn't hide that he was crying anymore. 

 

Hank rattled the stall door a little, "What's going on? You okay?"

 

The android stayed in his spot on the floor, unable to move, echoes of the interrogation stuck in his head with no room to process anything else. But Hank's voice continued. 

 

"Can you hear me? Con, try to focus on my voice okay? Not the case, not work, just where you are right now."

 

Too much, there was too much.

 

" _ Please _ , I know it's tough but you can do it. You don't gotta move, but try. I'm right here, not going anywhere without ya." He heard the lieutenant groan as he sat down on the other side of the stall. "No rush, all right? Nice and easy."

 

The man's presence, and perhaps his expectation, was enough to get Connor to unfold a little. His hand ached where it lay on the cold, tile floor, and he could see Hank's jeans and sneakers under the door.

 

"You with me?"

 

"Y-yes," he replied with static crunching in his voice.

 

"All right, okay. You breathe and cool yourself down and stuff right? Long breaths, both ways, eight seconds each. Can you do that? I will too." 

 

He set an example for Connor, purposefully breathing loudly to be heard. One of his larger hands planted on the floor so he could adjust himself, and Connor cringed as one of the bits of plastic was noticed and picked up. But Hank didn't say anything about it, just kept going. 

 

"You're lucky; Sumo was here, he would come in and lick your face."

 

Connor huffed a small laugh, sniffing and thinking of the giant dog who was probably sleeping at home. Sounded pretty nice, right about now.

 

"I was thinking we could leave early today, have some extra time before the sun goes down to bring Sumo to that park we always pass going to his vet. Sound good to you?"

 

"Yes," Connor managed out. He started to stand, the wall holding him upright. 

 

"No rush, Connor. Take your time."

 

Hank eventually stood too, and it was another few minutes of quiet before Connor reached out for the lock.

 

The stall door opened, revealing a worried Hank. It hurt Connor to see him like that, to see him distressed because of Connor. But when the man stepped forward, he tentatively touched the android's elbows, giving Connor a moment to push away before wrapping him up in his arms. 

 

It felt a little different than their previous embraces. Hank held on a little tighter, his head resting on Connor's, which made the whole thing feel just a bit more intimate. Connor wanted to just melt into it, to be back home and anywhere but this damn bathroom. 

 

"That guy was such an ass. You did a good job, trying to get him to spill. More than enough, Con…" 

 

He felt Hank's head rub into his hair, suddenly realizing that Hank was pressing a chaste kiss atop his subtle, brown curls.

 

"Let's do something about that hand, and call it a day."

 

Wincing, Connor buried himself into Hank's jacket, so close he could feel the man's chest vibrate as he chuckled, and rubbed Connor's back soothingly. 

 

"It's okay to have some bad days, nothing more 'human' than that. C'mon, let's wrap up that hand."

**Author's Note:**

> Got an angsty, whumpy, hurt/comfort prompt you want written? Send it my way!
> 
> I'm on the thing: [LadyAmalthea on Twitter](https://twitter.com/canticumexvacui?s=09)


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